The Life And Times Of Penna De Mort
by Emersonian
Summary: (Altered chronology, I'm sorry). The prequel of all my Descendants fanfics. Penna De Mort was always known as the Princess of Evil, the daughter of Voldemort. But now it's time to go back to the 20th century, when she was born, when she went to Hogwarts, when she made her rise in the wizarding world, and how she brought forth the birth of the world's most infamous villains.
1. The Birth

Chapter 1: The Birth

Rain was pouring down on Auradon. It had been a month now since the end of the Pride Games. One would think that after the insanity that everyone had endured, they could enjoy a sunny summer vacation. But sadly, a week's worth of rain started off the season.

It wasn't much of a problem for Céline Flamel. As a witch and traveling journalist, she was used to fighting rain in any place she went to find great information for a story. Right now, she braved the rain and made her way through one of the suburban neighborhoods of the city. She reached a yellow row house, the only one in the neighborhood painted in a rather mustardy color. Her finger reached out for the doorbell underneath the label VILLENEUVE PUBLISHERS and got welcomed inside by the housekeeper of the Muggle awaiting her.

"I was glad you could make it, Ms. Flamel," the Muggle greeted her kindly in his office. He gestured her to sit down on the velvet seat facing his desk. The housekeeper offered to hang Ms. Flamel's coat up kindly declined and used her wand to dry herself up.

"So?" Ms. Flamel sat down on the chair.

The Muggle placed his hand on the manuscript that rested on his desk. "I have read your proposed work. _Four times_. First for the sake of editing, second because I found it unbelievable, third because I ended up with so many questions, and finally because I read it to the rest of my publishing board."

"And what did they make of it?"

"They were just as dumbfounded as I was. It makes us wonder if everything we know about history and magic is true." The Muggle glanced at a framed newspaper hanging above his chimney, its headline and picture proudly showing the news that Penna De Mort and Prince Marius Bogfae were engaged and would marry once they finished building the new international wizarding school. "At the same time, it makes me wonder how she could have endured such horrors."

"I can assure you, Mr. Cook, that unlike some wizarding journalists or reporters who pride themselves in yellow journalism, I take my research seriously. I traced Pénélope's adventures throughout the world, I investigated every place she went to in order to collect artifacts or create legends, I visited her old, abandoned birth home, and I asked any living Hogwarts staff or alumni for anything valuable. She knew me as one of her rare closest friends."  
Mr. Cook nodded and slightly slouched on his seat. "The board thinks that your book could become a great best-seller and teach our society to rethink past unfair judgments. Though I'm still curious... Why decide to write a biography about Voldemort's daughter and why release it now?"

"Truth be told, I initially aimed to wait until she passed away to publish it since the most famous witches and wizards got their biographies published after death. But before I called you, Pénélope and I had a discussion over tea: inevitably, if I waited such a long time to write her story, the book would be too massive and no one would take interest in it. She also brought up how her old mentor got a biography published by a yellow journalist after he died. The context was negative, but it revealed sincere truths that the readers never wanted to believe. Pénélope thinks that her mentor chose to let the truth be read after his death because he wanted people to be independent from their despair."

"Because they needed to move on, knowing that he could no longer protect them?"

"Yes. Or perhaps that he could only admit his shameful secrets once he was dead. But Pénélope is different. She still feels like people should be protected from _her_ and maybe this book will give them an idea of why they should."

Mr. Cook nodded. "It is always difficult for a pained person to expose themselves."

"Especially when one would know that her life started as such on a rainy day in June." Ms. Flamel looked towards the only window in the office. The rain was getting worse outside. "A night, dare I say it, just like this one."

 _June 6th, 1900_

 _My little Penelope._

It was like a whisper in the darkness. It almost sounded like it was dying.

The new life felt like she was being touched.

 _Oh, I'm sorry I won't be there for you. But never forget how much I love you..._

Something odd went through her. It was as if the whispering words went through the new life's veins and into her heart. She heard a breath fail, something snap, and what sounded like wind blowing a cloud away.

She felt herself being bundled up by something warm. She still felt the water and blood from the ocean of darkness she had swam in for a while. She opened her eyes. Someone was holding her, but she couldn't clearly see the person's face. Honestly, things were still so blurry.

" _Here is Penelope Svjetla Marvolo Riddle. You'd better take care of her._ " The person who held her put her in somebody else's hold. As if the second person's cold touch served as an electric shock, the little baby's vision cleared and she saw the first scariest thing of her life: a lavender-skinned man with three horrifying horns, hair made of smoke, clothes darker than shadows, and eyes more blue than ice.

Penelope immediately cried the moment she was placed in her father's arms. She cried, wishing that the dying whisper or whoever held her previously could come back for her. She wanted to go back to the ocean of darkness she was previously in. But instead, she was condemned to be carried by the vile man whose blood flowed in her as he brought her down a staircase. Her screams echoed with the water dripping from the ceiling.

" _ **Open**_ _,"_ her father hissed at something standing in the way. A door opened up and he stepped inside some dark chamber more than 10 feet below the building's catacombs. " **Basilisks!** "

" _Master._ "

The infant kept crying, so she could not see who had called the cruel man their master.

" **Here!** " Penelope got shoved off his grasp very coldly and into something... strange. That was the best way for her to put it. " **Unless I'm teaching her to use the Dark Arts, she's your responsibility!** "

" _But Master, she's your daughter!_ " One of the new voices exclaimed.

Let us change perspective, outside of what the poor infant was experiencing. Voldemort, her father, had pretty much dumped her into the curled tail of a basilisk and left the duty of wet nurse to lethal, giant snakes and made his way out of the chamber. Seeing as they had no need to stay in their monstrous forms in the presence of the infant, the giant basilisk holding her shrunk and changed to become a grey-skinned man covered by a big mass of snakeskin for clothing and keeping his golden serpentine eyes. He ripped off some of his 'rags' and used it to wipe off the goo that was still on the baby.

" _There, there, little one,_ " he said soothingly. " _We'll take good care of you._ "

The infant stopped crying but kept whimpering.

" _Poor dear. She must have sensed that her father holds no love for her._ " The basilisk's mate, who had green skin, held out her finger and dried out the infant's tears. The small thing began to smile until she began to cry again. " _Slytherin spare us, what has the master done this time to her?_ "

" _She's hungry, my love. Call our children and tell them to bring back live goats to milk._ "

 _Half an hour later_

Basilisks are fast hunters and everyone knows that. The ones living underneath Voldemort's home were know for hunting livestock from nearby farms and bringing them back to their den to feast on. Naturally, the trick was that this time, they had to bring the goats alive and resist the temptation.

The two basilisks assigned as 'wet nurses' had a litter of their own, an estimated amount of ten children at the most. Each brought back as much goats as they could, rounding them up in a makeshift pen. They began to wonder why their parents wanted to use the goats for milking when they saw the father adding the finishing touches to a bassinette made out of weaved snakewood and snakeskin bed sheets.

" _Why won't the Dark Lord take care of his own daughter, Mum?_ " One of the youngest asked while the mother basilisk milked the closest brown goat she could find.

" _Frankly, even snakes as venomous as cobras take better care of their eggs._ " One of the eldest snorted.

" _Well, the Dark Lord isn't a snake. He's a human who doesn't understand or feel love_." The mother basilisk finished milking the goat and brought it to a cauldron to boil it and add some herbs for flavor. " _This little one is different. Her mother gave her love before dying. There might be hope in her._ "

 _"Of being a good human?"_

 _"Of not becoming a monster like her father_ ," the father basilisk said. He turned his head to see one of his middle children looking at the baby from over the crib. " _Watch it, Bloodyle! The baby is only a few hours old and not something to eat! The Dark Lord will kill us all if it were to happen!_ "

" _But she's so cute! And look at those big blue eyes she has!_ " Bloodyle, who looked like she had the physique of a ten-year-old Muggle, reached out for the baby and stuck out her finger to caress the soft pale skin made of flesh. It was so much different from the thousands of snake scales that basilisks had.

The mother basilisk poured the prepared milk in a bottle. " _Since you seem to find her appealing, perhaps you'd like to be the first to feed her?_ "

Bloodyle nodded eagerly and carefully picked up the baby. The mother basilisk gave her biological daughter the bottle and instructed her to bring it as close as possible to the little mouth. As soon as the small thing sensed the presence of the bottle's teat, she bit down on it with her toothless mouth and gluttonously sucked in the milk.

" _Do human babies normally drink that fast?"_ One of the startled younger basilisks asked.

" _It's probably just her half-breed nature. Difference in species' metabolism_ ," the father basilisk shrugged.

In less than thirty seconds, the baby had finished her milk. A small burp escaped her mouth.

" _Bless you,_ " Bloodyle giggled as she put the bottle down.

 _..._

Seasons came and went. Summer dissolved into autumn, bringing the colorful shades of red in the countryside where Voldemort's estate was located.

An incident happened to the Dark Lord sometime in July and was recovering in the utmost solitude. For the Death Eaters, it meant a boring time that they could only fill up by killing Muggles in their sleep. For the basilisks, however, it meant more outdoor space. With the Muggles trying to cover themselves up and try to avoid going out too much with the below cool weather, it was a great to slither their serpentine bodies and go explore the thick glens surrounding the territory of the Dark Lord.

Penelope was around 4-months old by the time her 'wet nurses' decided to go on a family outing in the glens in the dusk of an October day. They had fed her well and she looked neither too skinny nor too plump. Thick tuffs of black and teal blue hair strands grew to her ears and unlike most babies, all her baby teeth were inside her mouth. She still drank the milk that the mother basilisk prepared for her but since late August, the father basilisk decided it was probably time to introduce Penelope to 'actual food'. Of course, they couldn't teach a human baby to swallow food like they do, so they consented with hunting local field mice, garden lizards, sparrows, eggs, and neighboring adders to cook up their meats, mix it with vegetables found in the castle kitchens, and create a form of purée for Penelope to eat.

For the moment, Penelope seemed to be content with the first months of her life. She barely saw her 'creator' ever since his 'accident with some filthy half-blood' as one of the Death Eaters put it, which made her spend more time with the basilisks, whom she tolerated much better. Bloodyle was by far her favorite. After her own parents, she was the one who gave the most attention to Penelope. She'd feed her, she'd clean her, she'd tuck her in, she tried her best to snatch stuff from outside to make makeshift toys for the baby, and tell her bedtime stories in the same hissing language Voldemort had used to open the basilisks' chamber.

" _Look at that, Pen_!" Bloodyle pointed at the flock of dragonflies flying around the pond in the glen the serpent family had gone to this evening. " _Dragonflies are very pretty and very yummy."_

Penelope laughed and waved her little arms towards the dragonflies. Bloodyle stepped into the pond and held Penelope close enough to try touching the bugs. As soon as Penelope managed to poke one, it glowed and turned into a jeweled dragonfly. The baby laughed, clapped, and continued to poke more passing dragonflies. The whole herd of them flew above the water like earthly stars.

" _Her magic is beginning to bloom_ ," the basilisk father commented as he and his mate relaxed on a pile of leaves in their snake form.

" _I hope you don't think she'll end up using it against us!_ " The mother basilisk looked at him in shock.

" _We've been the closest thing to her than a family, of course she wouldn't_. _But I dread I might have overheard something I shouldn't have._ "

" _The pipes in the castle have such an echoing effect, we know everything the master and his followers talk about_."

" _True, but I overheard the Crouch fellow letting it slip that the master has planned something for Penelope once her magic comes out. He... plans to have her create Horcruxes on her birthdays._ "

" _But she's too young! Does the master expect her to be capable of murder when she can't even yet say her first human word?_ " The mother basilisk spat some venom at a nearby field mouse, not out of hunger but out of anger. " _He refuses to spend time with her unless he has some use of her, the Death Eaters are too scared to approach her, and besides from our family, the only person who bothers to come down to visit us and spend some time with the baby is Nagini_."

The basilisk parents watched as Bloodyle kept playing with Penelope in her arms while their other children either amused themselves in swimming the pond to hunt for frogs or camouflage themselves under the leaves. " _Well look at it this way, my love_ ," the father basilisk said. " _She's better here than with one of those Muggle-hugging wizards._ "

They continued to watch their children play. Some among the youngest snickered as the nearby spiders fled into the dark woods full of pine. One of the children, however, narrowed his eyes as he could have sworn he saw close to six distant lights.

To be specific, they were the six distant lights coming from six wands of six approaching wizards.

" _Mum! Pup!_ " He called out to his parents. " _Aurors approaching_!"

Without hesitation, the adults immediately summoned their children. " _Split up and head to the castle. We'll meet up in the chamber_ ," the father basilisk ordered.

Soon, the family dispersed. With a mist covering the earth in the glen, they could easily slither away without being seen. Since she was carrying Penelope, Bloodyle resorted to running in her human appearance. She shushed Penelope as the baby seemed to begin to whimper.

Bloodyle was midway to approaching the castle when she realized that the Aurors were getting closer to _her._ She paused, looked around, and found a good tree full of thick foliage. She carefully climbed up and sat on a branch well hidden.

" _We're playing hide-and-seek_." Bloodyle put a finger over her lips, telling the baby to do the same.

"The Trace ends here my friends," a voice came up. Bloodyle held Penna close to her.

"Your wand's full of house-elf earwax, there's nothing here," one of the other Aurors spoke up. "Besides, what business would an underage wizard have in trolling the woods near You-Know-Who's house?"

"Considering that Mad-Eye Moody didn't show up, it must not be serious."

 _Oh, good Lord_ , Bloodyle mentally prayed.

Penelope let out a small whimper, making Bloodyle freeze.

"Did you fellows here something?"

"Sure did. Whoever's out here, come out! You're surrounded!"

Bloodyle blinked her eyes, hiding their golden shade with a normal brown one. What some wizards failed to acknowledge in basilisk biology is that they have a particular nictitating membrane. Since basilisks can occasionally take a humanoid appearance, they'll use that membrane to hide their eyes, for everyone knows that staring in the golden eyes of a basilisk leads to certain. Well, only a descendant of Salazar Slytherin would be unaffected, so Voldemort and Penelope were immune.

Taking her guts, Bloodyle wrapped her tail around her waist to make it pass off as a belt. She held on to Penelope and climbed her way down. The six Aurors, four wizards and two witches, pointed their wands at her.

" _I'm terribly sorry_ ," she said to them in human English. " _You got us all scared up, we hid in this tree._ "

"We apologize," one of the witches said. She kept her wand out, but slightly lowered it. "The Trace detectors alerted us about the use of underage magic. Did you use magic by any chance?"

" _I'm afraid I don't. I'm only ten and despite being half-breed, I'm a Squib_ ," Bloodyle easily lied. " _My family and I came out for an evening picnic in the woods and we mistook the distant glow of your wands for Patronus charms. We fled thinking Dementors were on the loose_."

"Oh, we're terribly sorry!" The witch put away her wand. "We didn't mean to give you a fright. But you shouldn't be out all alone. You're near the territory of You-Know-Who."

" _I'll be more careful._ " Bloodyle said. " _Well, I know the way home. I should be on my way._ "

Bloodyle began to walk away but one of the male wizards stood in her way. Bloodyle feared that he didn't believe her. He leaned down and looked at Penelope, who was still whimpering in Bloodyle's arms.

"That is one interesting baby," he remarked. "How old is she?"

" _4 months._ "  
"Really." He frowned. "She has all her baby teeth out."

" _I don't see what's so odd about a baby having all her teeth out_ ," Bloodyle said.

"Is she your sister?"

This was getting on the line of burning coals. The Auror was not convinced. "I think it'd be safer if we brought you with us for the night or until we can come in contact with your parents. It's not safe for underage half-breeds to walk in those woods."

" _We can take care of ourselves_."

She began to regret the cold tone she had used. Now the Aurors began to look suspicious.

"Did the baby produce any magic of the sort?" The wizard demanded.

Penelope was getting tense in Bloodyle's arms. Thinking quick on her feet, Bloodyle unleashed her tail and hit the wizard right on the stomach. She ducked to avoid the Aurors shooting spells in an attempt to immobilize her.

"Do not let the infant get hit!" the wizard warned as he got up.

Bloodyle turned to face the other five Aurors. She folded out her nictitating membrane. It was all so quick, the Aurors let out screams that lasted a few seconds before they crumbled on the ground, struck by her deadly glare. She turned to face the other wizard, but he was gone. And Penelope was beginning to cry.

" _Let's not tell anyone about what happened_ ," Bloodyle shushed Penelope and ran back home.

 _Elsewhere_

The wizard who managed to flee from Bloodyle had managed to apparate himself all the way to Scotland, in the office of a fellow wizard he was supposed to meet up with.

"I thought it was impossible when you told me, but I saw it with my eyes," he said. "The Dark Lord has reproduced. Why else was a basilisk turning itself into a human and walking around his territory with a baby?"

"What did she look like?" the other wizard asked. "The infant."

"I'd say rather healthy. Small blue eyes and locks of black and blue hair. All her teeth are out." he shook his head. "We can't just leave her with the Dark Lord! I mean, I myself think it's a miracle that he just leaves a species of magical creatures to raise his own child when they could have eaten her in one gulp!"

"Yes, but if we just took her from him, he'd hunt her down and kill whoever stands in the way," the other wizard remarked wisely. "And if the Ministry of Magic realizes that he has reproduced before she turns eleven, they'll seek to harm her most. Azkaban is no place for her and she would not fit hidden among Muggles. She must stay with her father."

 _..._

Autumn flew away to be replaced by winter's showers of snow. Bloodyle told no one of the encounter with the Aurors and everyone believed her story of being delayed by wandering Muggles.

The Dark Lord had managed to fully recover himself after New Year's Eve. Since only half a year remained before Penelope's first birthday, he began to come down once a day to see how she was getting better. Penelope still grew faster than the children her age: if she got all her first teeth out when she was 4 months old, she was able to take her first steps when she was 5 months old (though the mother and father basilisks let her rest her little hands on their giant snake selves for support), and by the time she was 6 to 7 months old, her first words came out. They were not human words of course, but it's a miracle that at her age, she'd be so fluent at saying words in perfect Parseltongue.

Voldemort only came down to see if she had been showing signs of magic yet, and to his pleasure, most of his visits were fruitful. The infant wasn't aware of how she was doing it, but the basilisks noticed that sometimes her magic reacted depending on her emotions. Her 'first tricks' included touching dead leaves and inadvertently bringing new sprouts to life or reviving dead pig fetus that the basilisks had hunted.

" **Has she performed any actual spells**?" Voldemort asked the father basilisk.

" _No. She doesn't know how to speak the human language yet, but she does well in communicating with us and the local snakes._ "

" **Nothing grand other than the trivialities I've just seen?** "

" _No, master_ ," the basilisk shook his head. " _She did manage to open the door of the chamber by speaking Parseltongue. We had to keep her from going up the stairs to your castle by accident._ "

Voldemort scowled at the information, for he did not like the idea of this creation attempting to run away from him. " **Then begin to teach her how to speak in fluent wizarding words and get her to articulate spells! I plan to have her cast a Killing Curse on a Muggle on her birthday** _._ "

The basilisk hissed in fury. " _She's too young to perform such magic and you'd put her in a higher chance of being noticed by the Ministry of Magic! You'd actually let your own child be taken by those Muggle-huggers, or worse, placed in Azkaban?_ "

" **Oh, please!** " Voldemort rolled his eyes and crossed his arms behind his back. " **If she can survive the raid of six Aurors with one of your children around, she'll be able to deal with Unforgivable Curses.** " He made his way out. " **I expect her to know her English at the least. And by the way, give my praise to Bloodyle.** "

As the father basilisk watched his master leave, he realized that Bloodyle had lied to him. He went to find her in the chamber's pool, teaching Penelope the basic of swimming. When Bloodyle saw the expression her parent, she knew immediately that she was in for trouble. After getting one of her older siblings to play with Penna, she followed her father and they were later joined by his mate in one of the most secluded areas of the chamber.

" _Bloodyle, did you kill six Aurors_?" The father basilisk demanded. " _The master somehow knew that you did it!_ "

" _It was on that October night... when Penelope poked the dragonflies..._ " Bloodyle bit her mouth. " _I tried to make the way back, but the wizards caught up. We tried to hide, but they noticed we were there. I almost managed to get away with lying that we lost track of time when one of them got, but then one seemed overly curious about Penelope. I hit him with my tail and stare-killed the others, but when I turned, he was gone."_

" _Oh, no._ " The mother basilisk cupped her hand over her mouth. " _You should have told us, Bloodyle. Why didn't you?_ "

" _I didn't want to scare you!_ " Bloodyle sighed miserably. " _Who do I fool? I feared that you wouldn't let me continue taking care of Penelope if I didn't protect her from the Aurors!_ "

Her father looked at her in a frustrated glare before sighing in exasperation. He reached out and tucked some loose hair behind his child's ear. " _I'd have to be as stupid as a Muggle to stop you from taking care of Penelope. But promise me that you'll be more careful if it ever happens again._ "

Bloodyle sighed in relief and hugged her father.

" _But if one of the Aurors escaped, that means the Ministry knows of her,_ " the mother basilisk pointed out.

" _I dread the master's plans for Penelope more than I fear the Auror._ " Her mate revealed what the Dark Lord told to him.

" _So the Crouch fellow wasn't passing on false rumors! He does want Penna to create a Horcrux by killing a Muggle!_ "

" _What's a Horcrux?_ " Bloodyle asked.

Her parents turned her head to hear someone apparate in the shadows. "Forgive me," the intruder spoke, "but I might know something that could save Penelope from the same fate as her father. It won't stop her from getting a Horcrux, but it will save her from losing her humanity."

The basilisk mother snorted. " _We're really falling low, accepting your help while you walk your merry way into your enemy's own house._ "

" _But if it will help Penelope, then we must accept._ " The mother basilisk nodded.

They waited until it was time to tuck the children to bed. The parents brought with them the intruder, cloaked to hide his appearance. They stepped inside the nursery where Penelope slept, just in time: Bloodyle had just tucked her in bed.

"Thank you, Bloodyle." The intruder nodded his head kindly. Bloodyle made room for him and he knelt down to have a better look at the child in the bed. "Hello, Penelope."

The six-month old infant let out a small happy sound the moment she saw the stranger. She had never met him in her life, but one look at him and the baby knew right away that the stranger was much better than her creator. She laughed as his index finger reached out to tickle her chest. Her small hands grabbed his finger and she slightly nibbled it with her mouth.

"Precious thing," he smiled. "Your mother's love still flows in you." He flipped his hand to create a small cloud of glitter hovering above the little face. She let go of his finger as she was curious of the little cloud.

"My dear Penelope, daughter of Svjetla and Tom," he said. "To ensure that you do not become a monster like your father, these are three gifts that you must always keep at heart." He fidgeted his fingers and the glitter cloud changed to make layers of blue, pink, and red like some kind of fruit-flavored cotton candy. "First, you will never hate a parentless child. Second, you will remember who is the true cause of your faults. And third, you must NEVER forget that you have the one thing that your father doesn't have: love." He let out a soft blow and the cloud landed in a glitter puff on the baby. As the gifts went in her, she yawned and immediately went to sleep.

And just like that, the stranger apparated away from the nursery.


	2. The Innocent Murderer

Chapter 2: The Innocent Murderer

The curious thing known as time flew by dreadfully quickly. January's snow melted into the blooming flowers of March, which eventually led to the near end of spring in June. Penelope's 1st birthday was approaching. The toddler went on with whatever she had of her life to enjoy: running around the chambers, playing with the young basilisk, or her favorite part, hanging around Bloodyle. Evidently, these two had grown such a strong bond in such a short amount of time, Penelope saw Bloodyle as if the creature was her actual sister.

June 6th finally came. For some reason, Penelope woke up at dawn feeling uncomfortable. Her cozy bed now felt like an empty pit of bones, the light coming in from the sole window to the outside world looked dimmer and made her nursery darker. She forced herself out of bed and let her small legs move her out. She found the basilisk parents. They were waiting for her with a small cake with teal-colored frosting and a small candle. None of their children were around.

" _Happy birthday, Penelope_ ," the mother basilisk said weakly. She presented the cake to Penelope.

"Where's Bloodyle?" Penelope asked, not in English but in Parseltongue.

The father basilisk rubbed his fingers nervously.

Penelope understood why she felt some kind of dread. Even though it's been a year, she still remembered leaving her warm ocean of darkness to end up in the arms of a father who didn't even love her the way the basilisks have treated her as one of their own. In her young, innocent way, Penelope knew that something bad would happen today but she didn't know what it would be.

She blew her first candle and ate her cake entirely. Even though it was made of viper liver and lavender, a specialty from the mother basilisk that Penelope normally enjoyed, her body gave her the sensation of wanting to throw up her birthday cake. The basilisks had her clean up and put on the nicest snakeskin dress she had.

"Where are we going _?_ " Penelope asked.

" _Your father is bringing you upstairs._ " The toddler immediately froze when 'He' was brought up. " _Penelope... whatever happens upstairs, do as your told but do not accept blood-thirst in you,_ " the basilisk father warned her.

Parseltongue was heard from the other side of the chamber's door. The basilisks immediately turned into serpent form and stayed in the sidelines as Voldemort stepped inside the chamber. Penelope's veins seemed to be getting a series of stings, as if her interiors were the home of a wasp hive. Voldemort was so terrifying, even the water he stepped on didn't make a sound.

" **Hurry up!** " He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the chamber.

"No!" Penelope shook her hand and failed to get him to release her. Honestly, her attempt just made him tighten his grip on her. His nails sank into her soft skin, and though it didn't leave any exterior mark, it left a horrible pain on the inside worthy enough to be the pain one gets after getting mauled by a hungry tiger.

He brought her up the staircase and into the level of his castle. It was rapid, but Penelope managed to see the hallways they went through. Dark walls and furniture, greens in the cement... Voldemort lived in a rather luxurious home, but right now he made Penelope feel like she'd rather live permanently in the basilisk's underground sewer than his dark paradise.

A door opened before him and they stepped inside some kind of drawing room. A witch and a wizard were pointing their arms at a Muggle man. His wrists were tied behind his back and he was forced to stay kneeled.

" **See that**?" Voldemort pointed at the Muggle and forced Penelope to watch. " **You're going to kill that Muggle, Penelope**."

"K...Kill?" Of all the words in English, Penelope understood it awfully well. In her mind, 'kill' was pretty much what became of the local adders when the basilisks used them for food.

Voldemort pulled out his bone white wand. " **You will use this, you will point it at that man, and you will kill him by shouting 'Avada Kadavra'**." He brought the wand to Penelope's face. " **Do it.** "

Penelope hugged herself in fright and took a step back. "Don't want to," she shook her head at him.

" **I'm telling you to murder this Muggle!** " Voldemort was losing his patience.

"Don't want to!" Penelope's eyes began to water.

The witch quickly eyed the Muggle before going to kneel down and be at Penelope's height. "Sweetie, this Muggle is _dangerous_ ," she said. "Muggles _kill_ witches like you and me! They _burn us_! They _hunt us_!" She clutched Penelope's shoulder. "Do you want him to kill you?"

"I'D NEVER KILL A CHILD!" The Muggle exclaimed. "WHAT KIND OF CRACKPOTS TELL A CHILD TO MURDER?"

" **FINE, THEN I'LL USE THE DIRECT APPROACH!** " Voldemort ran so loudly, Penelope ran to hide behind a couch. The witch and wizard stepped back while Voldemort pointed his wand at the Muggle. " **Imperio! Relashio!** "

Penelope gulped. The Muggle's brown eyes whitened and he immediately stood upright once the cords were released off him magically. The toddler didn't understand what happened to the Muggle, but soon enough, he began to charge at her. In fright, she crawled down the couch, which he shoved aside. She ran and pushed down the harpsichord chair, causing him to trip. The Muggle just got up and continued chasing her until he got her cornered by the chimney

" **Well?** " Voldemort snapped. " **That filthy Muggle just started hunting you because you're a witch.** "

"Did nothing!" Penelope said tearfully as she felt the flames getting closer behind her back. "You made him!"

Voldemort looked sternly at her. The Muggle picked up one of the chimney pokers and aimed it at her. Being raised by basilisks, Penelope's instincts made her grab the poker. She and the Muggle began to fight over it.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" She shouted in Parseltongue and swirled at the poker. This made the Muggle lose balance, and as Penelope moved out of the way, the Muggle fell head first into the chimney's fire. And since Voldemort enjoyed having fires made from the flames of dead phoenix, it cremated the Muggle. Penelope dropped on her knees and cried. A small white fragment flew out of her tears and got sucked into a bottle that Voldemort held out. As he trapped the fragment in it, his expression read a mix of pleasure and frustration.

" **Well done, Penelope.** " He sank his nails into her wrist yet again and pulled the crying child outside the room. Minutes later, the witch and the wizard who remained behind cringed when the child's horrible wailing echoed throughout the castle.

 _..._

Penelope kept wailing and kicking while Bloodyle and the basilisk father held her down.

" _I know it stings,_ " the basilisk mother said as she patted some cotton soaked with Cretan dittany onto Penelope's back. As soon as Penelope 'murdered' the Muggle, Voldemort had brought her to a kitchen, forced her to lay her stomach on a table, ripped off the back of her dress, and hammered a Kraken Acupuncture needle. The hammering left a permanent black mark on her skin, not the Dark Mark, but a mark illustrating the current Penelope, looking miserable as possible. The process also left some 'splinching', as the basilisks put it, which is why they were holding her down so that they could apply the medication.

It took almost an hour to do it, but the basilisk mother managed to seal off her wounds. Her forked tongue licked off the bloody stains to clean the skin, which calmed down the toddler a bit.

"Can you take off the needle?" Penelope asked the basilisk mother.

" _It's hard to remove Kraken Acupuncture Needles_." The creature shook her head. " _I don't even know if there's a remedy._ "

" _And wizards call us monsters!_ " the father basilisk rolled his eyes. " _It's one thing to create Horcruxes and force a child to get some, but adding those cursed needles?_ "

" _That's enough for today_." The basilisk mother helped Penelope stand back up on her feet. " _Bloodyle, help her get some rest. For one birthday, she's seen enough._ "

 _..._

Voldemort didn't come down to check on Penelope after what happened on her birthday. June quickly became September and he was pacing around his office, starring at the soul fragment that had come out of Penelope when she killed someone for the first time. He still couldn't understand why it was so white and unchanging.

On a foggy night, while Penelope went to the glens with the basilisks, he decided to discuss his problem with Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr, the Death Eaters who had been present during the 'event'.

" **You two know that a part of her soul came out,** " he said while sitting stiffly on his chair. " **So why isn't she changing?** "

"Physically or mentally?" Bellatrix asked.

" **Both! I mean, is it that hard for a child to obey when she's being told to do something?** "

"In fairness, My Lord, it's not so much about disobeying but will-power," Crouch said. "She may not fully understand things, which is normal for children her age, but at the same time she's born from you, the greatest sorcerer in the world..."

Voldemort tilted his head with a small hint of flattery.

"But at the same time, her mother, the demoness who made a contract with, was a nature demon," Crouch continued. "My conclusion? Your daughter is smart enough to understand that you wanted her to harm a life because she inherited _your_ intellect, but she could see that A, the Muggle was innocent, and B, he attacked her and she killed him because she saw and understood that you bewitched him to do so. Her nature demon mother must have passed on her sense of compassion."

" **I can't have that brat going around with that!** " Voldemort snapped.

"I know, My Lord, but it explains why her soul fragment came out _white._ She didn't take any pleasure or real purpose in murdering someone. My best recommendation would be to give her a reason _why_ she should murder. A reason that would make her transfer from the innocent murderer she is to a fully-dedicated, bloodbath loving psychopath."

Voldemort rubbed the bottom of his chin. " **That's not a half-bad idea, Barty. There's just one problem: how do I do that to that pest?** "

"Perhaps since we're more experienced with our own children, we can try to guide your daughter into the Dark Arts into basic steps," Bellatrix offered. "Like in the format of games they can handle or even some field trips. You can better handle your daughter once she becomes eleven."

" **True, I wouldn't want the Ministry to know she's alive... yet.** " Voldemort tightened his fist. " **Very well. I'll let you two give it a try.** "

 _..._

Bellatrix and Crouch got to work and gathered their ideas. By the time November came to a start, they finished a complete set of what they came to call as 'Death Eater Daycare'. On the first day, a Monday, Bloodyle escorted Penelope into what seemed to be a room used for conference meetings, but Crouch and Bellatrix had arranged the room by pushing away the fancy furniture to the edge and spread most of the central area with toys, cushy green pillows, and a chalkboard.

"You don't have to stay," Bellatrix remarked to Bloodyle when the young basilisk pulled one of the armchairs and sat on it.

" _Either I keep an eye to make sure you're not going to make Penelope kill babies or I can just kill you on the spot_." Bloodyle sank herself on the seat.

"Pf! As if the Dark Lord would let her harm my son and Barty's daughter!"

Bloodyle looked at the new generation of Death Eaters, a bunch of infants that reeked of fanatical pureblood genes. Brittany Crouch, who only had one strand of brown hair out, was beating a voodoo doll of a Mudblood onto the floor as if the doll were a hammer. As for Bayen, the perfect momma's boy, immediately crawled to Penelope and tried to smile at her. She grimaced, stuck her tongue at him, and stormed off to hug Bloodyle. Bayen whined on the spot.

" _Ooh, I think she hurt his feelings!_ " Bloodyle taunted to Bellatrix.

"Well... there goes anything she shares in common with her father." Crouch shook it off and clapped his hands. He then directed his attention to the three members of the 'Death Eater Daycare' (or DED, as Bloodyle came to nickname it). "OK, children. We're going to do some fun games!" He pulled out his wand and summoned some unit blocks with painted letters on each side. They pilled up in perfect alphabetical order before the children. "Here's the game. I say a word, you stack the cubes to make out the word, and the word will come to life. For example, here is what I get if I want HOUSE ELF." Crouch waved his wands. The lettered cubes floated to form the word, which caused a mist projection of a house-elf wandering about the room until Crouch had it disappear. "Go on. You try it, but with the word DRAGON."

" _You can't be serious._ " Bloodyle puffed. " _There's no way that those babies will be able to grasp on to it._ "

 _..._

Bloodyle was both correct and incorrect. As November went to December, Bayen and Brittany made no progress. Either they couldn't spell the words assigned to them, which usually referenced animals (magical or not), or they made words like 'mommy' or 'dada', which conjured projections of their parents. The flattery did not help.

With Penelope, it was a different case. When she heard the words she was told, she understood them. It still happened that some words, she could not spell them in English. For instance, Bellatrix asked for the children to make 'Troll' with their cubes, Penelope made the word in an order that the adults did not seem to understand even though they got a Troll projected until Bloodyle realized that Penelope made the word out in Parseltongue. Another case like that came when asked to make the word 'Snake', and not only did Penna make the word in perfect English, but she used most of the provided cubes to make an alphabetical order of all existing snakes. As they kept doing that game, Penelope's English improved.

Another game Bellatrix and Crouch had come up with was what they called 'History Storytelling'. They made childish stories that talked about actual bad relationships between Muggles and wizards, how Muggles kidnapped baby wizards and burned witches, and how Mudbloods steal magic from purebloods. At the end of each story, Brittany and Bayen looked terrified. Only Penelope was unfazed.

"I don't get it," she said.

"What don't you understand, sweetie?" Bellatrix asked quietly.

"You say Muggles and Mudbloods are evil," the toddler say, "but you don't say anything about evil purebloods."

Bellatrix and Crouch eyed each other hesitantly.

"Purebloods aren't evil." Bellatrix shook her head and smiled. "They're tough, but their nice people. Only people with dirty blood or a non-human gene are evil."

"You lie."

The adults looked startled. Even Bloodyle was shocked. The words came out of Penelope's mouth so bluntly, yet so innocently.

"You aren't nice people. The Muggle I killed... he didn't like that Voldemort wanted me to kill him. He didn't a child like me to murder," Penelope said. "Voldemort is a pureblood but he's the worst man I know... But since you say non-purebloods are evil, than it means Voldemort isn't a pureblood."

Bloodyle bit her nails. On cue, Voldemort stormed in and slapped Penelope until she curled up like a fetus on the floor. When she finally wailed, Bloodyle finally intervened. " _My Lord, Penelope didn't mean to insinuate that you aren't a pureblood. It was an accidental slip of the tongue._ "

Voldemort said nothing. The worst he did after slapping his precocious toddler was to put DED on an early Christmas break.

Penelope took the Christmas break opportunity to stay clear away from the Death Eaters and Voldemort and spend more time with the basilisks. With the snow covering the glens and humans staying indoors at all costs, they'd often go out to better hunt for deer, or if lucky, bears. Sometimes, Penelope would find grass snakes or adders peaking their heads out of their heads, and the moment they'd find out she was a Parselmouth, they gladly took breaks in their hibernation to have some chats with her. As she talked to them, Penelope came to see that snakes, to her part, were much more trusting than the humans she had been introduced.

" _Well it's true that humans can be judgmental, but it's because of different perspectives._ " One adder said. " _A cousin of mine told me that some cultures venerate us. My sister said she knew this cobra back in India who knew this Muggle who makes charming music out of his flute._ "

"Like a piper?" Penelope asked.

" _Very much so._ "

A day after she talked with that adder, she visited a den full of grass snakes.

"I don't suppose you know why Voldemort hates me?" Penelope dared to ask the snakes.

" _You're too young to ask such things_!" One hissed in a scolding manner.

" _Why so strict? Look at her skin. She almost looks like a worm chewed by baby crocodiles!_ " Another said. Penelope scowled at the minuscule insult.

" _It's not your fault, dear child_ ," the eldest of the grass snake den told Penelope as she sat in the snow while they only poked out their heads from their warm den. " _Many of my relatives have gotten the grand opportunities to chat with the Dark Lord and his ancestors._ "

"His ancestors?"

" _Yes. Didn't you know that your father's maternal family, the great line of Gaunt, was a line of Parselmouth descendants of Salazar Slytherin? A founder of the wizarding school of Hogwarts, a pureblood fanatic, and the one who bred the same female basilisk who nurtures you._ "

Penelope's eyes widened in curiosity. "I didn't know I was related to a celebrity."

" _Oh, he was famous._ " The grass snake nodded. " _But frankly, considering what he was, it's no surprise that most dark witches and wizards find themselves sorted into Slytherin house._ "

" _At this rate, probably three-quarters of Hogwarts alumni sorted into Slytherin are currently serving your father around in his castle._ " One of the snakes snickered. " _The irony that he rebuild his Muggle family's estate into that castle the size of his pride!_ "

Penelope shook her head. "Excuse me? He can't be... he's a half-blood?"

" _Of course he is! Haven't you been told? His mother was a pureblood witch and his father a Muggle. That naive simpleton of a witch had a love potion placed on that Muggle. Made him obsessively in love with her, married her, and she got pregnant._ "

" _Though of course, she thought that he'd still love her even if she removed the love potion!_ " The elder snake exclaimed. " _But what did she expect? A love potion gives only the illusion, not the real thing. The Muggle immediately abandoned her and she died after giving birth to her son, your father._ "

"Like how I don't know my mother?" Penelope realized sadly.

" _No. Rumor has it you were born under a contract. The Dark Lord sees you as a tool like he does to anyone surrounding him, but your mother really wanted you as part of her family._

" _She gave her love to you. Your father's incapable of love, but you are._ "

Penelope looked back at the direction of the castle.

 _..._

New Year's Eve had passed. A favorite tradition for the Death Eaters (or so to say, the adults) was to leave the territory and give the first tortures to Muggle-borns before dawn on January 1st. As they turned into black smokes and flew away from the castle with their master, Penelope got out of bed. She tiptoed her way out of the basilisks' chamber and dared to climb up the stairs. The toddler took a cautious look. No one was in sight.

Voldemort usually forbade his servants from going at one of the central rooms in the western section of the castle, where anyone could have a view of the sunset, unless he wanted a private meeting. Now one year and seven months old, Penelope understood that the area was where he kept his business to himself. In other words, his office.

She found a staircase in the nearest hallway that led straight to the western section, but she froze. A snake blocked her way. It was much smaller than the basilisks, but it was much bigger than the local small snakes. Penelope almost mistook it for some kind of boa constrictor with python scale patterns until she saw that the big snake had the triple of a viper's amount of fangs.

"Hi?"

The snake, unimpressed, slithered down the steps and directed the toddler back to the chamber. Having woken up when they sensed the snake's presence, the basilisk father went straight between apologizing to the snake and scolding Penelope.

" _You should consider yourself lucky that it was Nagini and not your father who caught you trying to snoop to his office!_ " He told her. " _What were you thinking?_ "

"I... wanted to see if there was anything about our family. After all, I'm Slytherin's descendant, right?"

The basilisk looked as if he had petrified himself while Nagini merely slithered away. As the day went on, around 8am, she had been summoned. Penelope feared that she was being called to be forced to kill again. Bloodyle brought her to the same room where DED took place. Bellatrix and Crouch let their children fight over some toy while Bloodyle held Penelope in her arms. Voldemort was sitting on an armchair resting by a lit fireplace. One hand was caressing Nagini, the other some thick, greenish purple book.

" **Nagini told me that you tried to go into my office.** " He looked sternly at the toddler, who felt like shrinking in Bloodyle's hold.

" _She didn't think of the consequences_ ," Bloodyle tried to protect Penelope. " _She also didn't tell my parents why she wanted to go up._ " Honestly, even Bloodyle didn't understand why Penelope would want to go up voluntarily to the level of the one she despised.

"We're Gaunt." Penelope dared to say.

" **What?** " Voldemort said coldly. Bellatrix and Crouch, on the other hand, did not have the same reaction. Give them a bunch of butterbeer bottles and they'd redo the wizarding New Year's Eve festivities all over again.

"This is wonderful, my Lord!" Bellatrix said. "You two are from the Gaunt family!"

"And if she knows she's a Gaunt, she knows that she belongs to the Sacred-Twenty Eight families of perfect, Muggle-proof, pureblood families!" Crouch went on to pinch Penelope's cheeks. "You know you're superior, don't you?"

" **Don't get so touchy, Crouch** ," Voldemort warned. Crouch backed up.

"Yes, you wouldn't want him to touch my dirty half-breed skin," Penelope sassed at Voldemort in Parseltongue. "Filthy half-blood."

Bloodyle gasped when she realized what the child just said. Bellatrix and Crouch didn't understand a thing she said, but whatever it was, it made the Dark Lord become furious. He grabbed the book he was caressing, got up, and slapped Penelope on the face with it. She fell onto the floor and cried at the pain.

" **Do enjoy learning about your value. Here, something to help you learn how to read,** " He dropped the thick book onto her stomach. In that area, it made the book feel much heavier than it did when it hit her face. " **And also to give better respect.** "

Penelope cried even more. Bloodyle reached to pick the book off her, but Voldemort pulled her by the arm and took her outside in the hallway. He closed the door behind him, leaving Bellatrix and Crouch to tend for Penelope.

" **Why is it that you can't keep this child in check**?" He groaned in Parseltongue.

" _You asked us basilisks to raise her, and we're doing the job unlike you._ " She crossed her arms. " _I can see why those oafs tell her half-bloods are 'evil', considering that you're no different than your filthy father._ "

Voldemort bit his tongue to hold in whatever could come out that would disturb his Death Eaters. He took a deep breath and stared at Bloodyle. " **It seems like Penelope's growing up rather fast, she'll have to leave her nursery.** "

" _No!_ "

" **Oh don't worry, she'll still eat and sleep in that cavernous room you basilisks call home! But from now on, she's no longer a baby! No more soft beds and her free time will be spent in the castle. And since you are SO demanding to be there for her, you'll be with her the whole time!** "

" _But my parents will worry!_ "

" **You'll live** ," he scoffed. " **I managed to without mine.** "


	3. The Ghost Of Merope

Chapter 3: The Ghost of Merope

In the present time, the Muggle housekeeper came into the office of Mr. Cook. She was pushing in a cart bearing a teakettle, cups, and a dish full of steaming soup.

"Care for some snap pea soup?" Mr. Cook asked Ms. Flamel.

"With this weather? Gladly." Ms. Flamel nodded. The housekeeper poured in the soup in bowls, placed them before the two folks, and made her way out. Once she left, they went back to their conversation.

"I won't lie, it took me like _fifty minutes_ of reading that section to fully let it sink to me." Mr. Cook poured some tea in his cup. "It's rather unbelievable how such parental abuse even exists!"

"At this rate, 'abuse' would be too merciful a word. Unfortunately, I don't know a worse word to replace it." Ms. Flamel tasted her soup. "Flavorful. My compliments to your cook!"

"I'll let her know." Mr. Cook nodded. "You know, when you submitted your manuscripts, you also provided dated, written notes from actual interviews. Did Penna De Mort tell you all of this? How her father abused her even in such a fragile state?"

"It was actually difficult to take that information. Pénélope did tell me of her experiences, but some of them I had to find on my own since she wouldn't say. I had to spend nearly a year in Little Hangleton..."

"Little Hangleton?"

"A very small Muggle village in the Yorkshire region of England." Ms. Flamel nodded. "Vast fields, the dark glens that hid Voldemort's home, generally cloudy... Honestly, for a city witch like myself, I understood why I barely saw any wizard living in the area. Anyway, I tried asking the local Muggles as cautiously as I could if they knew anything about the odd family of Riddle. All I heard were things like 'Oh, nobody really liked them', 'Just a bunch of snobbish well-off landowners who owned most of the lands where the town stood', or 'the family with the son who saved himself from a bad marriage'." She tapped a finger on the desk. " _That_ got my attention. Luckily, I managed to find a local wizard peasant or two. They said 'Oh, yes. The Muggle heir. The one who got off the wires thanks to Merope Gaunt and later got killed by his own son. You-Know-Who. He made a palace out of the family house and grew the glens to hide it. He apparently got some lad to harass.' Though, I must admit, I did manage to get Bloodyle Silisk to tell me the best details."

Mr. Cook and Ms. Flamel continued eating their snap pea soup until they ran out. "The part of the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight Families'. I mean, I only managed to understand that it was part of 'purebloods', or however you call it..."

Ms. Flamel rolled her eyes and sighed something in French before speaking back to English. "It's racism for you. Keep wizards hidden from Muggles and those who manage to have families with not a single Muggle-born relative grow the pompous belief that they're superior. It gets worse when they alienated the pureblood families who _do_ befriend Muggles and they call them 'blood traitors'. Perfect examples of the fanatical among the Sacred Twenty-Eight are the Lestrange and Gaunt families. So fanatic and determined to keep the wizarding gene clean, they are willing to go as far as incest. And since the Gaunts are Slytherin's legacy... well, you know where Voldemort got his psychotic tendencies."

"In your notes, you made the connections between Penna De Mort and her deceased grandmother." Mr. Cook flipped through the pages of the manuscript. "The similarities between De Mort and Merope Gaunt are beyond surprising."

"Well, when both were tormented by their fathers, what do you expect?"

 _August 1902_

Penelope kept crying and Voldemort couldn't stand it.

Ever since her father restricted her free time to be in the castle so that he'd keep an eye on her, the child felt more miserable than ever. He now came up with different reasons to torment her, whether it was in DED or anything else at all. When she was being 'educated' by Bellatrix and Crouch, he now sat opposite to Bloodyle and kept a stern look, freaking out Penelope when she took notice. After the basilisks adjusted her nursery into a bedroom accommodated for a toddler, he added in a door with a lock that only he could open, thus trapping Penelope in her room so that she wouldn't try sneaking out again. The basilisks still made her meals but now their master limited their ingredients so that she only had sour-flavored foods.

And honestly, must we get into the details of her second birthday? Yet again, she couldn't force herself to kill the victim, who was a Mudblood this time, and yet again, her father managed to find some method to make her kill the victim unwillingly. Another pure white soul fragment pulled itself out of her body and into the bottle Voldemort kept. Still angry that the murder did not corrupt the toddler, Voldemort 'punished' Penelope by over boiling the water in the tub when Bloodyle gave her a bath. Two months had passed and Penelope was still crying over the burns she had on her wrists.

" **If my plans didn't rely on her, I'd kill her on the spot! Her crying is worse than those of Mandrakes!** " Voldemort passed angrily around his office.

"Well she understands her family's level in society," Crouch said, "but the trickiest part will be the reward."

" **The reward?** "

"Yes. It's something that I learned while raising my Brittany. Many children will perform better when they are aware that their deeds come with satisfying rewards. In others, if you want Penelope to do what you tell her, you must _bribe her_."

 _..._

Bloodyle was padding some cotton endorsed with Cretan dittany on Penelope's wrists in the drawing room when Voldemort apparated. The toddler screamed and hid behind Bloodyle. "Leave me alone!"

" **I come in peace**." Voldemort raised his vicious hand up.

" _That's rich, coming from you_ ," Bloodyle commented. The Dark Lord bit his lips and forbade himself from trying to respond. He shook his head and directed his cold blue eyes to Penelope.

" **My methods are harsh, but they serve a cause.** _ **Our**_ **cause,** " he told the toddler. " **So, I'm here to smoothen the process. If you can manage to execute what you are told, I'll see that my beatings are... less violent by ten percent.** "

The toddler just stared at him with a scowl. "I'm not convinced," she said in full English.

" **What if six months before your birthdays, I let you decide the blood status of your victims? I'll swear on the River Styx that I'll keep my word.** "

This got the toddler interested. She didn't know much about the well-spoken River Styx, but she was well aware that whoever swore on it would be condemned should they break their word. And Voldemort, who always meant business, swore on that river a lot.

"I also want to go out," Penelope said.

Voldemort scowled and hoped she wasn't going to start making a list of things she wanted so that he'd get her cooperation.

Luckily, Bloodyle intervened. " _In fairness, my Lord, it's rather unhealthy for children to be cooped indoors. Plus, rather than just bringing in victims into your living room, you could just bring Penelope to the victim's house and kill him there. Nothing terrorizes wizards more than being killed in their own house._ "

Voldemort pondered. " **That's actually not a bad idea. Fair enough. I'll let you choose the blood status of your victims and you get at least two hours outside, and in return, I won't beat you too hard if you do as I say. Also, if you go outside, Bloodyle or a Death Eater must either accompany you. I keep my word on the River Styx. Understand?** "

The toddler still frowned at him. Crouch didn't make the mistake of not noticing that Penelope was above the intelligence of a mere two-year-old, but as Voldemort made his own observance, he saw that his daughter had one thing that his Death Eaters didn't.

She was fully aware that he was beyond dangerous even if he promised to 'protect' those who pledge loyalty. Like many of his Death Eaters, she was terrified of him, but unlike them, she didn't believe in his 'nice offers'.

"I'll do my best," she merely said.

" **Very good.** " One of his hands was hiding something behind his back. He pulled out, revealing a sketchpad with a green cover and a box full of colored pencils. " **A little something to remember our conversation.** " He placed it next to Penelope and apparated himself out of the room.

"This is complete bribery," Penelope said in Parseltongue.

" _Glad you noticed_." Bloodyle sighed. " _You're clearly going to keep it._ "  
"Well duh! I'm two and I'm selfish."

Bloodyle smiled and ruffled Penelope's hair.

 _..._

The end of the month came rather quickly. The Dark Lord did stay true to his word.

With whatever free time she had, Penelope chose to go outside. Either she'd go play with Bloodyle in the glens or she'd be watched by either Crouch or Bellatrix, who were more open by taking her around the hills and fields that surrounded Little Hangleton. During those outings, she'd take the 'gift' Voldemort had given her and you'd go on to sketch what she saw. The more she did, the more it looked like an actual wizarding photo in the sense it looked real and alive, only it was colored. She'd draw the hills, the sunsets, the little Muggle village isolated at the heart of the valley, and the rocky quarries. When the outings were done, she'd bring her sketches to her room and use dead snake guts to stick them on her wall. That way, when she had to go to sleep in her locked up room, she'd lie on her stone cold mattress and watch the landscapes move on the paper. Seeing the drawn grass be blown by the invisible wind was enough to lull her to sleep, but enough to keep her from wishing that she could sleep on that natural blanket of greenery.

Noticing her interest in sketching landscapes, one of the Death Eaters, Alecto, saw an opportunity. With her master's permission, she began bringing potted plants from her home and by September, she tutored the two-year-old prodigy into scientific illustrations. Penelope found herself drawing the different organs of individual plants with great interest and did her own, daycare version of Herbology, squeezing the life out of plants and using their blood to make liquids that even she didn't know how they'd work. One time, she managed to grow some Devil Snare to fill an entire broom closet, only for it to accidentally bruise Bayen Lestrange. Though she did not mean to do so and despite how she found Bayen annoying, Voldemort was pleased by the accident.

Another particular accident occurred on September 30th. Alecto had brought a potted Mandrake and sedated it to ensure it would be asleep. However, even being five inches near the Mandrake and with earmuffs on (just in case), Penelope immediately began to hallucinate and passed out, not waking up until the next evening. Soon enough, Bloodyle threatened to murder anyone who grew or brought a Mandrake in the Dark Lord's lands, for now it was clear that Penelope was highly allergic to Mandrake plants.

In October, it was the turn of Amycus, Alecto's brother. If his sister managed to rise the Dark Lord's offspring's talent in scientific illustrations and early Herbology, he decided to use the new tricks to fulfill what the Dark Lord wanted: getting Penelope into the Dark Arts. He'd bring skulls, femurs, and vials of blood that came from a Squib, a Muggle, a Mudblood, a half-blood, a half-breed, or a pureblood. How, he'd teach her, can you tell anatomically that this blood status is much more inferior than this particular blood status by comparing and contrasting those skull structures? He'd perform spells in front of her and she had to draw the physical or ethereal effect they'd create.

Positively speaking for Amycus, the Dark Lord's daughter was retaining what she was learning, but as Halloween passed and November came, he had to share the good and bad news to his master. The good news? Penelope knew the names of every single Dark Arts spell and could blindly sniff out the odor of a Mudblood. The bad part? Penelope directly refused to use any of them.

Then again, perhaps now wasn't a very good time to get Penelope to perform magic. One of Voldemort's spies alerted him and the other Death Eaters that Aurors were circulating around the Yorkshire region. Apparently, the Trace had alerted the Ministry of Magic that an underage wizard was performing magic.

" **Limit the patrols. Pause Penelope's sessions. The last thing we need is for the Ministry of Magic to 'rescue her'**."

 _..._

Amycus and Alecto were on their way out of the castle when they found Penelope standing on a stool and trying to reach for a bookshelf too high for her to reach from the floor.

"Careful, little one." Amycus picked her up and brought her back to the ground. "Do you need something?"

"I need more paper." Penelope pointed at her sketchpad, which was sitting on the floor and only left with close to ten remaining pages. "I ran out."

"Ran out?" Alecto picked up the sketchpad and opened it to see the last pages it held. Each of them was full by a drawing, and each of them had the same context: a graveyard background, a leaning dead willow tree, and a pale woman. The only thing standing out from that woman was a locket.

"Artist block?" Alecto guessed.

"I guess." Penelope said.

"Well here, you can take this." Amycus looked through his bagged belongings and pulled out a black book. He opened it, revealing blank pages. He ripped off a quarter of the pages. Roots grew on the spines of the ripped pages while in their old home, new pages grew, perfectly straight and clean. Amycus then brought the ripped pages to Penelope's sketchpad and the roots immediately attached the pages to the pad.

"Hydra paper. Rip off a page, a new one grows." He closed the pad and gave it back to Penelope. "That way you never run out of paper."

"Thank you," she said.

The siblings made their way out. Soon enough, Penelope's bedtime called in, and after the basilisks wished her goodnight, she was sealed inside her room. With the window's moonlight as her source, Penelope pulled out her sketchpad and looked at the repetitive illustrations of the woman with the locket in the graveyard. She didn't understand why she kept drawing her.

Penelope turned to one of the new virgin papers and grabbed a black colored pencil. She stopped herself. She didn't know if she ought to draw? What if she kept drawing the same thing? And if she didn't, what else could she possibly draw? The door? The leaking tiles?

Perhaps she could write.

 **My name is Penelope Svjetla Marvolo Riddle** , she wrote. Nothing happened... until something showed up right underneath the sentence Penelope had written.

 _Hello, Penelope Svjetla Marvolo Riddle. Are you my son's daughter?_

Penelope's eyes widened. **Are you my grandmother, Merope Gaunt?**

 _I believe so. You have the name of my father, Marvolo Gaunt, and the last name of my former Muggle lover, Tom Riddle. I named your father Tom Marvolo Riddle._

 **Are you a ghost**?

 _Yes. I currently live in a ruined cemetery in London. I can't leave unless I am invited to be by someone's side._

Perhaps this was why she kept drawing the pale woman in a graveyard. Penelope had been drawing the ghost of her grandmother. "Please come. I'm lonely."

The ten illustrations of the ghost of Merope ripped off from the book and ripped themselves into tiny pieces. The pieces landed on the floor and assembled themselves to create a mosaic portrait of the ghost. A gelatinous mass with the same texture as tar grew from the picture and solidified itself to become the ghost.

Merope's hair had the same dark tones as Penelope's, but hers were so straight, she almost looked like she came out of an eternal bath. Even though she was a ghost, her skin was so white pale that if you looked through her, whatever was behind her seemed to be as white as her. Despite her obvious young looks, she was horribly dried out of life, hope, and water.

Or as Penelope put it simply in her mind, her grandmother's ghost looked terrible.

"You have your grandfather's eyes," the ghost sighed. She reached out to touch the toddler's cheeks. A softness like the one of a cloud reached Penelope's skin, relaxing her a bit. "There's some saturation around it, but it's very pretty."

"He hates me," Penelope said. "Your son."

The ghost of Merope pulled her hand away from the toddler in guilt. "So... the Gaunt insanity still lives."

"You're not crazy." Penelope said nicely. "You just made terrible choices."

"Not terrible choices!" The ghost raised a finger. "Just one! I should have never removed that love potion from my lover!"

Penelope sighed. This was bound to be long.

 _..._

Throughout the months of December, January, and February, snow covered the hills surrounding Little Hangleton. As Aurors thought that 'white snow could show out dark wizards and underage wizards on the loose', Voldemort declared that he and his followers would really stay low until the Aurors had given up. The Death Eaters split to avoid suspicions, Bellatrix went with Bayen to see her sister, Crouch took Brittany on a trip to the Scottish highland, and Amycus and Alecto went off to London to keep an eye on the Ministry activities. Voldemort and the basilisks put themselves in hibernation mode to save energy, but before he did, the Dark Lord locked up Penelope in her room until the coast was clear.

The sole problem was that Penelope couldn't hibernate like they did. As her window did not have any glass, the wind would blow into the room and make a hissing sound through the stones of the wall. The toddler shivered underneath her pathetic rag of a bed sheet, which only got worse as snow fell into her room and melted. Every day, her stomach would gurgle, and eating the snow did not help.

With Bloodyle hibernating, Penelope got used to summoning the ghost of Merope. For a dead woman who had given hope on everything, she sure knew how to distract her granddaughter by telling her stories of Salazar Slytherin and some of their Gaunt relatives, like Penelope's grand-uncle Morfin, her great-grandfather Marvolo, and their long-deceased relative Gormlaith, whose niece brought the Gaunt line to America, where it ended with her children.

When Christmas Eve came, the ghost of Merope urged Penelope to come to the wall, sit underneath the window, and listen. As they sat and listened, the only thing they could hear was the wind blowing... then came church bells, pulled carriages, and what sounded like happy Muggles singing carols.

"I always enjoyed listening to them sing from my father's shack." The ghost of Merope sighed. "The singing's even better when you're dead silent."

"Why?" Penelope asked.

"Because when you don't say anything and you just listen, you can hear the singing at the fullest." So they sat there for a straight hours, enjoying the unreachable vocal joy, until it ended.

"I wish I had Christmas like others," the ghost of Merope sighed. "My father and brother never gave me presents. They said Squibs don't deserve good treatments."

"But you aren't a Squib," Penelope frowned before shedding a tear. "And the only 'gift' your son has ever given me was a mere bribery."

The ghost of Merope gave a small smile.

"I know!" She said. "Let's spend the rest of the night doing some illustrations! I'd tell you all that I remember about that time, you draw it in your sketchpad, and we'll put them on the wall.

Penelope nodded. The ghost of Merope went on to tell her about Muggles in winter clothing singing in the snow, churches ringing bells, bakers selling fruitcakes, Muggles cutting down pine trees, dragging them through the woods, and bringing them back home to decorate it, children excitedly opening presents, and couples kissing under the mistletoe. Penelope did so many wonderful sketches based on what her ghostly grandmother told her. When she was done, they put away the papers she had on the wall and replaced them with the new ones. The two of them admired their work but Penelope felt rather sour on the inside as she saw each image showing off a happiness she didn't have. Where were her singing Muggles? Why didn't she live in a church with harmonious bells? Who'd give her fruitcakes? Who'd bring her a tree to decorate and hide wrapped gifts for her to open them? Who'd love her enough to give her a kiss under a poisonous plant?

Penelope went to sleep in her cold bed. Around down, she felt Merope's cold ghostly hands shaking her shoulders and waking her up.

"Penelope! You must see this! It came when we were asleep!"

"Aren't you already rested in peace?" Penelope asked as she stretched herself up. She turned and saw something that immediately made her shed tears. Somehow, when she was sleeping, somebody had brought in some wonderful treasures and left it just by her bedside. There was a miniature pine, potted and half-Penelope's height. It had the scent and wonderful stickiness, but each tip was silvery, making the tree shine like tinsel when hit by the window's sunlight. Two wrapped presents rested by the potted presents, and to finish it all, there was a small stand the same height as the tree, only it was filled with slices of fruitcake with chocolate icing, a Chocolate Frog box, a pack of Bertie Bott's Flavour Beans, and three bottles of Pumpkin Juice.

"I guess somebody wanted you to have a happy Christmas," the ghost of Merope smiled. "Go on, open them!"

Penelope rushed to her presents and opened them like any eager child would. The first one turned out to be a thick, cozy blanket with a beautiful black and teal blue pattern of ghostly blue animals leaving trails of mists as they ran about in the dark wilderness.

"So pretty!" The ghost of Merope commented. "A blanket that shows the different forms of Patronuses! They take on the form of your happiest memory to protect you from Dementors!"

"It's really pretty," Penelope sighed. Whoever sent it to her must have known that she was having cold sleeps. "But I can use it without your son taking it or wondering who gave it to me?"

"Just take what you have of your current bed sheet and sew it onto one side of your new blanket. That way, in case he checks on you, he sees only the rag side, but you'll actually be sleeping in a much more comfortable blanket."

"Great idea." Penelope folded her blanket and put it aside while she opened her last present. It turned out to be a box with golden leaf carvings, and in it, more treasures: a pocket-sized storybook, a barn owl plush toy, and a red-feathered quill. "This is all wonderful... but where am I going to hide them? If _he_ finds them, he'll destroy everything."

The ghost of Merope flew her way into the ground. Penelope waited until a stone popped open. She rushed and lifted up the stone: Merope's head was sticking from the base of what seemed to be a secret compartment. Seeing that she was getting the same idea as the ghost, she tested it to see if the box fit in the compartment and if the stone could be placed above it. It was perfect.

Christmas left and Penelope was overjoyed with the presents. She took her ghostly grandmother's advice and using a hair strand fro Merope's ghostly hair and the needle of a spider, she sewed her snakeskin bed sheet on the ugliest side of her Patronus blanket. Thus, when Penelope would go to sleep, she'd bundle underneath and be cradled in a dreamland of mist-made beast running around the dark, snowy woods. She especially adored the Patronuses of different forms of snakes, though she wished there'd be basilisks.

She didn't rush in on the food she received. Despite her hunger, she'd spend at least an hour's worth of meal to put some fruitcake slice or a sip of pumpkin juice in her mouth and let it sit. Penelope saved the Chocolate Frog for another time, but she enjoyed sharing the Flavour Beans with the ghost of Merope (oddly enough, the ghost could consume them). They had this fun shared quirk that should one run into a flavor they disliked, they'd spit it out and give it to the other. For instance, if Penelope found herself spitting a bean flavored in cherry pie, she'd trade it for the bok choy flavored one that Merope spit out. Before going to bed, Penelope would sit with the ghost of Merope and read from the storybook. Reading to her granddaughter also helped Penelope improve her English and her reading.

Penelope assumed this was the last of her generous giver, but she was wrong. Around January 6th, what was labeled by most Muggles as 'Epiphany', when the mage kings visited the son of God, Penelope woke up yet to find another 'present'. This time, it was a perfectly baked, still warm galette cake. On the first slice she took, she found a hidden miniature silver figurine of a phoenix that flew around Penelope's room, bringing some sparkles. And yet, despite it being the second time, the 'giver' still didn't bother leaving some kind of note.

"You're sure it's not you?" Penelope asked one night later on while using the mini phoenix trinket to melt the Chocolate Frog into hot chocolate while the ghost of Merope played around with the Chocolate Frog card of Merlin that came with the now melted frog.

"How do you expect me to move anything when I'm like this?" The ghost practically whistled to her own see-through body. "Besides, if I were you, I'd just be grateful that somebody out there giving me food and some treats while the people I hate were in hibernation!"

"Would you know who?" Penelope asked. That made the ghost shut up. "Yep. I thought so."

Around the last two weeks of January came a rather violent blizzard. Snow poured in the window and threatened to bury Penelope alive, weren't it for the mini-phoenix flapping its sparkling wings and making the white layers melt. Unfortunately, the exposure got Penelope coughing and sick. Luckily, around the morning of February 1st, she woke up to find a box full of medicine, a syringe, and pumpkin juice. The ghost of Merope guided her granddaughter on how to do her own shots and take her medicine until she got better.

"Now I take back what I said," the ghost admitted. "Who could possibly be giving you first food and now medicine?"

"Especially since no decent wizard is crazy enough to go in your son's house." Penelope nodded. "I'd really like to thank him, but how can I do so without even being able to see him?"

"What if you leave him a letter while you sleep? I'd stay awake all night and see if he comes?"

It was a great idea. Penelope immediately used paper from her sketchpad to write a letter (though Merope had to chide her in grammatical errors). She used what was left of her Christmas ribbons to keep the rolled up letter in shape and rested it by her bedside. For many mornings, the letter was still in the same spot until February 14th came. The letter was gone and replaced by a pot of red-colored soup, a heart-shaped box full of Cauldron cakes, and another box of Chocolate Frog.

"This is frustrating! I could only see his cloaked figure and not his face!" The ghost of Merope finished whatever was left of the Flavour Beans while Penelope savored the soup. "He apparated in here, made your meal appear, took your letter, stroke your hair, and left off without so much of a hello!"

"So how do you know it was a wizard and not a witch?"

"Because when he touched you, I saw his hand with that finger structure most middle-aged men have!"

Penelope sighed.

"Eventually I'll have to go back to the cemetery," the ghost of Merope warned the toddler. "I enjoy spending time with you, Penelope, I really do. You are by far the kindest relative I've ever known and you are incredibly brilliant for a little girl who's not even three yet!"

Penelope blushed a bit at the compliment.

"But ghosts are bound to the places they died at. I died in London, so I must go back home."

"Will I ever see you again?"

"Of course! All you need is to write on hydra paper to let me know you want to see me and then wish out loud that I'd come! I'll be there for you when you are lonely."

The ghost of Merope placed a kiss on the toddler's forehead. The latter watched sadly as her ghostly grandmother flew out of the window and somewhere south on the white horizon. Part of Penelope reprimanded her for not keeping the ghost here with her for good. For once, having the ghost of Merope around made her feel like she was actually wanted by her family in a loving manner.

Unfortunately, Merope could only provide Penelope the love that the latter's mother had given to her before dying. Voldemort, for his part, had no love to give for his own flesh and blood.

The small girl cleaned up her room once she was done with her meal, making sure she hid her treasures in her compartment so that nothing would be seen. She stuffed her Christmas drawings in the box, put her original landscape drawings back in place, and ate her Chocolate Frog.

"Why's the world unfair?" She whined in Parseltongue as she put her Chocolate Frog card of Albus Dumbledore with her one of Merlin in the box, put the stone over her safe, and went to bed.


	4. The Grove of Hawthysterias

Chapter 4: The Grove of Hawthysterias

Since his hibernation got in the way, Voldemort had to wait until things were officially safe in the end of May to ask the question he wanted answered.

" **So? What blood status will you murder on your birthday?** " Voldemort asked Penelope when the two were alone in his office.

"I want to kill a pureblood... in London," the soon-to-be-three-years-old said.

This got him curious. " **Why ask for a location?** "

"Wouldn't you want me to kill on a large range or would you prefer that I contend you with mere shepherds?"

This got a smile on the Dark Lord's face. " **Spreading terror, are we? For once, you give me direct satisfaction.** "

It had taken a while for Penelope to learn, not directly from her father, the basilisks, and the Death Eaters, but from pure observance, that there was a major difference between lying and twisting the truth. Lying was something she was terrible at but twisting the truth, she was good at. Once, she and Brittany had managed to sneak into the kitchens and devour all of a gooseberry tart, with Penelope eating most of it. Even though the little girls cleaned their mouths and washed their mouths through salted water rinsing, the adults soon picked up that 'two gluttons ate the tart.' Penelope lied and claimed she didn't any, but Voldemort glared at her and noted that snakes' moved their forked tongues faster when they lied than when they were honest. And since basilisks raised Penelope, she had their lying quirk, so Voldemort beat her. This had taught her that lying wasn't for her because of physical betrayals.

Then another day came when, to give the children a break, the adults let them play outside. Bayen had given the ball to Penelope and she instantly kicked it at the window of her father's office. She said that yes she did, but at the same time Bayen was responsible because he tried to flatter her by giving her the ball and telling her she was a great kicker. This, on the other hand, was twisting the truth. She said her fault, but she changed it. Bayen hadn't influenced her, but since it was now aware that Bayen was developing for Penelope what his mother had for the Dark Lord... Bayen got the beating and Penelope got out.

" **Truth is dangerous. You did** _ **very**_ **well** ," Voldemort applauded Penelope, who felt rather bad on the inside. After all, Bayen was an idiot, but he didn't deserve it. Besides, she noticed that her father observed her even more during the lessons. Not just to observe performances, but also as if to look even deeper. Soon it became clear to Penelope that perhaps her father might be trying to read her thoughts.

And currently speaking, she did not need Voldemort to know that her main reason of wanting to go to London was to find the graveyard where the ghost of Merope rested.

 _..._

"Great news!" Bellatrix applauded as she stormed inside the kitchen while Bloodyle was washing off a pot and Penelope was finishing the pancakes made of parsley and grass snake blood that Bloodyle had made for her birthday. "Guess who's your victim tonight!"

" _I'm going to guess that the Dark Lord chose either one of his own servants or some stuck up from the Ministry,_ " Bloodyle said as she dried her hands. " _Is it Fudge?_ "

"Pff! No, he's a waste of energy for someone adorably evil!" Bellatrix pinched Penelope's cheeks, making the three-year-old feel uncomfortable. "You're going to kill one of those blood traitors! From the Weasley family!"

" _Stuck up from the Ministry_ _ **and**_ _a Muggle-hugger_?" Bloodyle took away Penelope's now empty dish. " _OK, maybe not a total waste of time..._ "

"So when do we leave for London?" Penelope asked Bellatrix.

Her comment made Bloodyle drop the plate she was holding. The floor now had a new décor composed of shattered porcelain. " _Is he mad?_ " Bloodyle exclaimed. " _It's bad enough he's making her kill at her age and performing magic before she's not even eleven, but murdering at the Ministry? He might as well have her wave a flag at the main hall and shout 'Hey, look at me! I'm the Dark Lord's daughter! Unless you can send me to Azkaban, I'll make my merry way to kill one of you!'_ " When she said that, Bloodyle jumped on the table and started doing an Irish dance. Her act made Penelope cover her mouth in order to hide her laughter.

"Oh, she'll be fine!" Bellatrix forced Bloodyle off the table. "The Dark Lord will have her drink a Polyjuice Potion so that she'll appear to be Wormtail. We corner Weasley in his office when he clocks out and bam! Murderous triumph!"

"Yay," Penelope said drily.

 _..._

Penelope's first impression of London? Too many lights and too much stench.

Voldemort was leading a flight of Death Eaters that included Bellatrix, Crouch, and Amycus. The Death Eaters flew like trails of black smoke in the night, but Penelope was carried by Bellatrix, and since the child still didn't know how to fly or apparate, she looked like she was lifted by clouds. Clouds dark enough to keep her out of sight from Muggles.

As the sky cleared to reveal London and the River Thames, Penelope immediately felt blinded by the numerous lights coming from the buildings higher than her own home. She took many sniffs to take in the urban scent, and soon enough, she missed the countryside odors she was most used to. All Penelope could smell while she was close to 100 feet above the ground was what smelled to her like melted metal and glass, dirty water (close to the basilisks' urine) and a thousand skins pressed against one another. She missed the odors of fresh stone, green moss, underground water, and snakeskin that she was so used to back in Yorkshire.

She pinched her nose.

"Muggle urbanization is revolting, isn't it?" Bellatrix told her, for she thought the child was pinching her nose out of disgust for the numerous Muggles moving below them.

Then came the fireworks of magic blasts charging at the Death Eaters.

"Aurors attacking!" Amycus shouted.

" **Get Penelope out of here!** " Voldemort demanded. He flew downwards where the magic was being charged from. Penelope saw a couple of green glows appearing, which meant that the Dark Lord was using his Killing Curse. Amycus and Crouch spun around Bellatrix and Penelope, creating a dark cloud that shot spears of smoke at the unseen Aurors. From the wizards below, it looked like the Death Eaters were counterattacking, but what they failed to realize was that it was just a setup. It was a setup to hide the fact that Bellatrix flew off with Penelope.

"I'm scared!" Penelope hugged Bellatrix tightly.

"There, there, sweetie!" Bellatrix gave her a small hug right back. "You'll be alright... AAH!"

Hugging Penelope made Bellatrix distracted from an upcoming magic blast. She got it right on the ribs and accidentally dropped Penelope. The child screamed as she plummeted. It was one thing to not fly, but falling to certain death? She could have sworn she heard the winds whistling several taunts.

"Don't worry! We'll catch you!" An approaching Auror said.

"No!" Penelope shouted. She closed her eyes and darkness came with excruciating pain.

...

"Ouch!"

Penelope bolted up. Something was stinging her arm.

"Careful."

Penelope had a better look. She was being addressed by a boy, roughly two years older than her. Tuffs of messy brown hair grew on his head, but at least their color matched his eyes. He wore a yellow woolen sweater and black pants with matching shoes. He was just finishing to tighten the bandages around her arm. The two children appeared to be in some kind of kitchen and Penelope was resting on a sitting area by the window.

A woman in her late thirties, probably the boy's mother and dressed in some sort of working dress, was just finishing to dry her hands with a towel. "How are you feeling dear?" She kindly asked Penelope.

"I'm fine. Where am I and what happened?"

The woman looked rather startled. Obviously, does anyone expect a three-year-old to talk like that?

"You fell from the sky. Out of a poof." The boy said. "You landed and your arm was bleeding!"

"Honey!" The woman chided her son before going back to Penelope. "I'm sorry. He's trying to say that you may have apparated in the middle of the sidewalk when we came back from some shopping and you got splinched."

"Mum obliviated the Muggles. Made them think you got bit by some dog," the boy nodded.

Penelope looked at her bandaged arm. She noticed that half of it was wrapped up in the white cloth. So she apparated unconsciously? Her talents were increasing, but she got injured.

"I still can't believe that a small child like yourself risked apparating!" The mother said in disbelief. "You're not even of age to start performing magic!"

"It was kind of an accident," Penelope did her specialty, twisting the truth. "Today's my birthday and I told my father I wanted to go to London, but we got attacked by Death Eaters above the Thames. I was accidentally dropped... I guess I apparated to escape."

"Poor dear!" The mother caressed Penelope's cheek in what the child saw as unusual kindness. "Don't worry. Newt and I were planning to head to the Ministry after we make a stop at the St Punica graveyard." She began making her way out and addressed her son. "Newt, would you be a dear and give her something to drink while I prepare the flowers?"

"Yes, mum."

As if mother left to take care of 'the flowers', Newt went to grab a copper tea kettle and began pouring in some water. Penelope properly sat up and sniffed.

"You smell weird," she told him.

"I'm sorry." He looked embarrassingly at the clean, but visible brown marks on his fingers. Clearly, he had previously dug in dirt. "I got carried away helping Mum picking flowers for the graveyard visit. Found a bunch of garden lizards."

"Guess that explains why you're named Newt?"

"No. My first name's actually Newton. Pop had a fondness for the Muggle scientist and he's got this thing of giving important names. He called my older brother Theseus, he called me Newton, but Mum started out the nickname of 'Newt'." He pulled over a stool and succeeded in reaching up a cabinet, where he grabbed a jar full of jasmine flowers. As he put some blossoms in a mug, the tea kettle began to whistle. "What's your name?"

"It's Penelope." Penelope frowned more at him in confusion. "Is your father a Muggle-born? Since he named you after a Muggle celebrity?"

"Actually, he's half-blood." Newt poured the hot water in the mug. "Muggle mother, pureblood father. His twin, my Auntie Clara, was a Squib. She died recently. Her funeral was yesterday. Mum and I are going back to her grave to drop off flowers. We'll meet up with Pop and Theseus at the Ministry and go back home."

He handed the mug to Penelope. Despite being startled over his kindness, she took in the mug and took a sip. A big smile appeared on her lips as the simple, but warm drink went through her throat. "It's good!" She said.

"Did you know that jasmine leaves bring the caffeine, not the jasmine blossoms, in tea? They grow especially well if you use the poop of hippogriffs."

"Hippogriff poop?"

"Yeah. Mum breeds them. That's why we live in he countryside..." Newt looked a bit unhappy. "And why I got into spending time with her and animals rather than getting interested in Ministry work like Theseus."

Penelope smiled.

For some reason she wasn't sure why, she knew she was going to get along with Newt.

 _..._

Newt's mother kept a good eye on the children as the three walked through the dark London streets lit up by lampposts. The only Muggles outside at this time were the local police patrolling the neighborhoods to ensure safety. Some politely greeted the trio and wished them good safety.

"So what did your aunt die of?" Penelope asked Newt.

"Overdose of medicine." Newt shrugged. "Barely anyone took her seriously since she was a Squib. Her doctor suggested medication to 'open herself to others'. Pop says she might as well have been hit by Crucio..."

"Newt!" His mother scolded.

"It's OK." Penelope protected Newt. "My father's performed the Unforgivable Curses in front of me."

"Is he an Auror? Only they are allowed to use them."

"He's not." Penelope shook her head. "He's kinda failed at making me use them. I know what they do, but I never used them."

"Good! It's no place for a child to be sent to Azkaban!" She stopped at a gate and the children copied her. In the basket where she kept a bouquet of white peonies and lily-of-the-valley for the grave of the deceased, she pulled out three pairs of earmuffs. Two of them, she placed over Newt and Penelope's ears. Penelope grimaced at the sensation the fluffiness was giving her.

Newt's mother put her own pair on and pulled her wand out. She recited ' _Alohamora_ ' and the gate unlocked before opening automatically, leading the group in the graveyard.

We'll be straightforward: the place was a mess, even Penelope thought the basilisk outhouse looked better. The paths separating each tomb from another were hexagon-shaped, making Penelope feel like she was walking through the pattern of a beehive made of stone. Speaking of the tombs themselves, they ranged from clean and polished to unattended to the point that some were actually crumbling or covered in vines. As they went further into the St Punica graveyard, Penelope realized that the graveyard reminded her much of the one she had drawn.

Was it possible that St Punica was where her grandmother was buried?

They reached the heart of the graveyard. A large grove of hawthorn trees grew in a hexagon format. Penelope noticed immediately that those weren't ordinary hawthorn trees. They gave her the impression of a skeleton. The bark was bone white, the trunks were formed like rib cage and the branches were as thin as arms' bones. No leaves grew on them, but as the wind blew, they gave off the smell of blood and rotting flesh. Also, Penelope could have sworn he heard screams when the wind blew to agitate those trees. It almost sounded like a crowd of people were screaming their complaints to her, but she was the only one present in the empty graveyard. Well, at least until Newt's mother pulled her back to reality. The woman gently pulled her away from the trees.

"Careful," she said. "You wouldn't want to get too close to the Grove of Hawthysterias."

"The what?"

"The Grove of Hawthysterias." The woman gestured to the leafless, bone-white trees. "These trees aren't quite hawthorns. Do you know what's so special about a regular hawthorn?"

"They're used to make wands?" Penelope remembered what she had drawn for Alecto in Herbology.

"True. But they are also symbols of hope."

"The Hawthysterias are trees of despair," Newt said. "A new one grows in the grove everytime a wizard dies out of despair."

"Of course, Auntie Clara's Hawthysteria is only a new sprout. We won't fully see it fully grown until maybe a decade or so," his mother nodded. "When the wind rattles their branches, you hear the hysterical complaints of the deceased. They can get to your head faster than the cries of a baby Mandrake. That's why we came here wearing earmuffs."

So St Punica graveyard was none other than an afterlife asylum. Still, Penelope thought that the grove was below her father's cruelty. After pulling one of the pieces off her ear and daring to hear the despaired complaints from the Grove of Hawthysterias, she didn't feel that affected. The screams and cries she had thrown around in the Riddle Estate were far much worse.

Penelope took off her earmuffs. "Do these trees grow directly in the grove or do they initially grow by the graves."

"Initially by the graves," Newt's mother said. "But they are uprooted and replanted because keep them too long by their original tomb and they fall. Why?"

"I think my grandmother's buried here."

To her content, they helped her look around. As they explored the St Punica graveyard, Penelope saw that the tombs weren't organized by last name or date of death but the trauma behind the deaths. She saw sections for childbirth deaths, unfairly accused convicts, her father's own victims, innocents persecuted by Muggles who trialed witches, and so on. But finally, around the very end of the graveyard, Newt found an area she found most relatable.

A section for the broken hearted.

The dead willow she had drawn? It was actually a fallen Hawthysteria. Its roots stuck out from behind Merope Gaunt's tomb like a pack of frizzled hair. The wind still rattled the branches' complaints, which were mostly about being treated like a Squib, her family never loving her, Tom Riddle abandoning her after she removed the love potion, and her dying feeling like even her own newborn child could care less about her even if she were still alive.

"I'm sorry about your granny," Newt told Penelope sympathetically. He ripped off the vines that were growing on the tomb.

"I speak to her ghost. She's actually very nice," Penelope said. "But she said that even though she could visit me, she still had to go back to her grave. I didn't just want to go to London for my birthday. I really wanted to see where she was buried."

"Children! Come along!" Newt's mother called to them.

"One moment!" Penelope rushed to the fallen Hawthysteria, grabbed the closest branch, and ripped it off. Despite her plucking it off the tree, she could still hear her grandmother's complaints, only they were now at the level of a whisper.

 _..._

In Penelope's perspective, the Ministry of Magic had the decency of a clean sewage. It wasn't just because of the dark and rather greenish brick work (which looked rather decent), but because the diverse of odors of wizards, witches, and creatures coming around were almost too much. Never in her life had she smelled such foulness! The purebloods had the stench of Bayen and Bellatrix Lestrange times ten, and the smell of the two reminded Penelope of how bad the basilisks' chamber smelled after Bloodyle threw up from swallowing too many dart frogs. The half-bloods and Mudbloods had the odor of pigs being dunked into the world's largest meat grinder without even bothering to pluck out the bones, making one nasty purée. To her surprise, most of the Ministry smelled of grinded pig purée.

The half-breeds, or the few she encountered, didn't smell like anything to her. It almost felt like she had passed beings who took a long shower and lost all body odor. Most of the half-breeds she encountered were either goblins working as clerks or house-elves cleaning up the office windows. She felt rather strange, watching other half-breeds work like under-paid employees while the wizards and witches who passed her, Newt, and his mother, reacted towards her as if she was the cutest, smartest toddler they had ever seen. She almost thought they had never seen a three-year-old before!

Newt's mother knocked on the door of her husband's office, a Mr. Scamander. He looked like one of those rare serious businessmen who still had enough time to give love to his family. The man took a pause to kiss his wife, ruffle his son's hair, and stroke Penelope's cheek.

"You must be quite the talented young witch!" He complimented her. "Apparating while you're only three! But you must be more careful! You could get in trouble for performing underage wizardry!"

"But she won't get too much, right Dad?" Theseus, Newt's eight-year-old brother asked. "I mean, it was just an accident."

"Of course it was!" Mrs. Scamander protested before then calming down. "Anyway, I need to quickly stop by the front lobby to report that her father accidentally lost her. He'll come pick her up."

"Yay," Penelope said drily. Either Voldemort killed everyone in the Ministry just to find her or her kills her after finding her.

"Ask for a Mr. Gaunt," Newt said. "She saw her grandma Merope Gaunt's tomb at St Punica."

"Well no wonder her father dropped her! Marvolo himself didn't like his own daughter!"

Mrs. Newt grabbed a quill and wrote down the essentials on a paper. "I'll be back," she said.

"Maybe we should wait until her dad comes to fetch her before we go home?" Theseus asked.

"Of course we're going to wait! It would be irresponsible to leave her alone!" His father scolded his son.

So Mrs. Scamander went to place the note. As she did so, Mr. Scamander went on to walk the children around the Ministry of Magic. For the moment, Penelope seemed rather bored, passing the diverse offices. The only things that seemed to interest her where the owls flying the mail in or the house-elves. When the group came into the Ministry cafeteria so that Mr. Scamander could get the children some snacks, Penelope spotted a house-elf who slipped on the floor she was moping.

"Watch it, house-elf!" A wizard spat at the house-elf.

Penelope felt something nasty in her just for seeing the creature getting offended. Without even looking at the Scamander family waiting in line, she rushed to the house-elf and pulled her up the floor.

"Are you OK?" Penelope asked the house-elf. The latter strained her ghastly straw-woven rag. Her red eyes glared at Penelope.

"A half-breed wee one?" She spoke in a Scottish accent. "I've seen everything you wizards make me look at."

"Uh, thanks?" Penelope didn't know what to make of the house-elf's rather odd tone. She sounded like she had nothing left to be happy about. "What's your name?"

"Aconite," the house-elf said as she wiped the sweat off her head and grabbed her mop.

"How exactly did you know I'm... you know... a half-breed?" Penelope asked quietly.

"You find me daft, wee one?" Aconite asked. "I've met half-breeds who have a better perspective on society than wizards twice their age! Do you think it's normal for underage wizards, barely even your height and age, to talk with the mouth of an adult? I'd have to be stupid to not notice your behavior!"

The Scamander family came back with drinks, so Aconite moved on to mop. Penelope couldn't help but look on at the house-elf as the latter left. Nobody seemed to have been paying attention.

"I got some hot cocoa for you children. Made right out of melted Chocolate Frogs," Mr. Scamander said.

Penelope licked her lips at the thought of eating her favorite candy again. They went on to sit by a fountain and go through their drinks right when Mrs. Scamander came back, carrying a paper of the Daily Prophet at hand.

"They just reported Aurors ambushing Death Eaters flying over the River Thames!" Mrs. Scamander held the paper. "A column is full of Minister Fudge denying it and claiming it was nothing but a misuse of magic!" She kindly looked at Penelope. "Don't worry. I'm sure your father came out alive."

The toddler rolled her eyes. As if her father wouldn't be alive!

"Why doesn't the Minister accept that the Dark Lord attacked?" Newt attacked.

"Don't you know anything, Newt?" Theseus rolled his eyes. "The Dark Lord's a menace to society, but he's been rather quiet lately. Rarely seen in public. The Minister wants to believe he disappeared, to enforce peace."

Penelope was baffled by how stupid it all sounded. She really felt like shouting 'Voldemort was absent because of me', but last thing she needed was to get a new bedroom in Azkaban. But still, did they honestly believe that 'disappearance' was the same thing as 'death'?

"Speak of the devil, be on your best behavior, children." Mr. Scamander tilted his head at the right and urged his family and Penelope to sit straight. A group of reporters were tailing the Minister of Magic and some woman accompanying him in the food court. Nobody else in the area dared to speak.

Penelope's first impression about the Minister? That the only decent thing about him was his hat. Compared to her father, he wasn't the type to physically intimidate. At worse, Penelope assumed, was that Fudge would slap while Voldemort would perform the Cruciatus Curse. The hoard of reporters was nothing more than a beehive following a moving glop of honey. But the woman following him? She was wearing nothing but pink, one of the few things that Penelope despised more than her father along with Bayen, Mandrake, and sleeping in the cold. The child didn't understand who would be crazy enough to cover themselves in a one-color palette that was worth vomiting. She saw Death Eaters wear dark green or pure black, Penelope had a liking for lavender purple and teal blue, and those were fabulous colors in her mind. Make the woman paint her skin in pink and she'd make a pig look prettier than her.

"Perhaps we should get going," Mrs. Scamander suggested.

"But my dear, we ought to wait until Penelope's father comes to fetch her," her husband responded quietly.

"I want to leave," Penelope said. She still looked disgustingly at Dolores Umbridge.

"We could just add to the note for Mr. Gaunt that it was getting late and that Penelope's staying with us until he can come get her..." Mrs. Scamander continued.

Penelope freaked in her mind. Last thing she needed was for Voldemort to go to the Scamander House and use a Killing Curse on them.

" _There you are, Penelope!_ "

Penelope jumped in fear when her name was called, but then her fear turned to relief when she saw Bloodyle approaching them. The basilisk had managed to camouflage her scales so that her human appearance had a more... fleshed out appearance. She had covered herself in a floor long cloak, black gloves, and a veiled hat. Penelope immediately ran to her.

" _You need to be more careful! We got so worried!_ " Bloodyle picked up the child in her arms and hugged her.

"I'm guessing you're her big sister?" Mr. Scamander asked.

" _Yes. Our... dad got injured after the incident, so I went to fetch Penelope. Thank you for taking good care of her!_ "

"It was only natural..."

" _Come along, Penelope! We must leave to go home!_ " Bloodyle immediately left, taking Penelope and not giving the child a chance to say good-bye to the kind family. As Newt was the only one to wave to her, Penelope's hand clutched the Hawthysteria branch.

She thought she had just lost a possible friend.

...

Voldemort didn't give her much of a break as the year went on. When Penelope didn't manage to kill the victim intended for her, he went back to having her kill a Mudblood. He had Death Eaters keep a constant eye on her. He even had Wormtail watch her while she was in the basilisks' chamber, but they scared him so much, the rat man chose to observe from the other side of the door. Penelope's training intensified.

The only thing Voldemort seemed to give Penelope a break on was her 'infiltration in the Ministry of Magic'. To Penelope's relief, he did not lash out at the Scamander family. No, the Dark Lord was convinced by how Penelope twisted the truth around common wizards to the point of walking openly in the Ministry of Magic and being treated like 'an adorable, innocent little girl.' It made him consider to perhaps let Penelope get more exposed to the wizarding community, since a brilliant three-year-old easily fooled them.

Around September, he was walking around his gardens when he caught Penelope using a pickaxe to hit the stones that framed her window.

" **Why aren't you using magic to break the wall**?" He asked as he approached her. He wasn't even wondering why on earth she was breaking a wall in the first place.

"I'm planning on planting a tree from my room," the child said, "so I'm breaking the wall to make more space for light to come through."

" **Fascinating, but there are less barbaric ways of growing a tree.** " He had her drop her pickaxe and follow him to a deep area of the garden maze. When they reached a roundabout with a statue of Salazar Slytherin crowning the, he raised his hand to touch the forehead of his ancestor. The ground's tiles and the hedges began to move while walls grew from the ground. Once it was done, Voldemort and Penelope walked through an arched pathway that led them inside the walled area. It was nothing but a mass of unused soil.

" **You can plant anything you want here. Perhaps you could even do some experimenting here after your Herbology lessons with Alecto**."

Penelope merely nodded. Daring her skin for it, she pulled out the Hawthysteria branch from her dress. She went to the center of the garden and dug a whole with her bare hands. The small child kept ignoring her father's glare as she stuck the branch in the soil and filled up the hole. The branch started to grow, and by the time Penelope stood up, she was facing a small Hawthysteria tree of her height. As the wind came from above, Merope's complaints echoed in the garden.

" **You've met my mother's ghost** ," Voldemort concluded.

"You're not angry?" Penelope asked.

" **I'd be angrier if you managed to contact your mother's ghost**."

It was odd, what happened later. They just sat on the earth, watching the leaves on the new Hawthysteria move as the sky turned grey.

" **How did you feel, when you were walking in a cemetery full of these**?" Voldemort asked Penelope.

"I felt that it was nothing compared to what I hear in your house," Penelope told him bluntly. This made him sneer gleefully. "I kind of preferred the graveyard over the Ministry during the trip to London."

" **Really? How so?** "

"I felt... too much when I was at the Ministry. I smelled so many wizards... So many couldn't imagine me as anything worse than a cute, innocent thing... Umbridge was revolting." Penelope shuddered in disgust at the mention of Umbridge. "And a house-elf knew I was half-breed."

Voldemort frowned. " **Which house-elf?** "

"Aconite. She was mopping the floors at the food court. She told me that it was easy for her to tell because I was a child... who spoke with the mind of an adult."

Her father looked like he wanted to hit something, but God knows what it was.

"Death Eaters always say that purebloods are superior in blood and magic, but why are we better than them?"

Voldemort got up. " **Eventually, my little half-breed, you'll discover that we live in a world that is split by two main ideals. Everyone picks a side, but we stay in the middle.** "

"Wizards and Muggles."

" **Power and immortality. Look at it this way: you and I are the only ones who can have power and immortality at the same time above the others. In the end, only one gets it all.** "

In other words, Penelope realized, he'd get rid of her if she became a threat.


	5. The House-Elf Aconite

Chapter 5: The House-Elf Aconite

Months had passed since Voldemort presented the walled garden to Penelope. Once she was done with her lessons, she'd retire herself to her garden. Daily, she watered the Hawthysteria and got regular visits from the ghost of Merope. When winter approached, she buried under the soil a multitude of seeds. When March came, the flowers and Penelope bloomed. Though it was still long before her fourth birthday, the child's physique changed. Her bones were strong and she grew immune to basilisk venom. Her young face grew the expression of a schoolgirl eager to learn and the beauty of a raven youngling. Despite the three times Voldemort had her kill victims on her birthday and seal her ripped soul pieces into a bottle, she lost none of her beauty. Most of the male Death Eaters, from the youngest like Bayen and Wormtail's son Roedor to the oldest members, were getting captivated by Penelope, their master had to get them to come back to their senses by threatening to have them spend their last night with Nagini.

Penelope had grown fond of her walled garden. By now, she had managed to grow a multitude of plants and flowers from the purple colored to the venomous: venomous tentacula, wisteria, irises, hyacinths, lobelias, golden dewdrops, foxgloves, poison ivy, black locust, and aconites. Her Hawthysteria did have some blossoms; fitting for a tree with bone-white wood, the flowers were blood colored, which made Penelope see the tree as a bleeding bone staining the dark green grass. When she wasn't watering or trimming her plants, Penelope would go lay under the Hawthysteria to either read a book or talk to the ghost of Merope.

It was around the end of March, when Penelope was trimming her aconites, that Voldemort called her to come out. Penelope, as usual, expected the worst as she went out, but what she saw waiting for her was something she expected least.

" **Your new long-term lesson** ," Voldemort told her. " **Establishing dominance over the low-life.** " He reached for something behind him and threw it at Penelope's feet. The 'it' was actually a house-elf.

The house-elf was none other than Aconite, the rather personality-dried, Scottish-accented creature who was mopping the floors in the Ministry when Penelope first met her. The child recalled the words of the house-elf. _I've met half-breeds who have a better perspective on society than wizards twice their age! Do you think it's normal for underage wizards, barely even your height and age, to talk with the mouth of an adult? I'd have to be stupid to not notice your behavior!_

"Hi, Aconite," was all that could come out of Penelope's mouth. The child looked at Voldemort. "Did you steal her from the Ministry?"

" **No. The wizards she served were getting tired of her wild attitude, so they freed her. Crouch helped me hire her and now she'll be your personal servant.** "

"But..."

Voldemort apparated himself away and left Aconite at the hands of the child.

"He didn't lie, lassie," Aconite said gruffly. "My previous masters did set me free."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Penelope frowned.

Aconite spat at a nearby tile. "Clearly you never heard that for house-elves, freedom is the same thing as getting fired." She straightened herself. "I'll make it easy, lass. If you tell me to wash your dishes, clean your laundry, mop your floors, or any insane task you want me to do, I'll do it. If you are sick of me, either kill me or set me free by giving me clothes. That's the contract."

"Is that why you wear that ugly thing?" Penelope pointed at the rag made of woven straw that Aconite wore.

Aconite sneezed. "Excuse me."

"Do the rules mention anything about masters giving house-elves loose fabrics?" Penelope asked.

"No. Why?"

"I can't give you clothes unless I free you, but I don't like seeing you in rags. What if we do this? I give you stuff to do and in return, I find some loose scraps of cloths so that way you can make _your own clothes_?"

Aconite smirked in impressment. "My, my. You lassie, are a strangely smart one."

...

One can imagine how it went on for the whole of April. Every hour, Penelope played the act of 'bossy missy' to Aconite. There were orders like scrubbing the floors in the basilisks' chambers, taking care of the garden's plants, make meals for Penelope and Bloodyle, and of course, pranking the Death Eaters. It became Penelope and Aconite's newfound shared activity: since Penelope was already cutting up curtains around the Riddle Estate and stealing and ripping to shreds the Death Eaters clothes to give the fabrics to Aconite as payment, the house-elf gladly let the child ask her to harm the Death Eaters. She'd purposely hit Bayen with her mop, throw a bunch of wildcats at Wormtail and his son, put a few boggarts in the bathtubs of the bathrooms, and even hide weasels in Nagini's crib.

"That house-elf needs to respect who her masters are, milord!" Bellatrix nearly screamed at Voldemort after Bellatrix had suffered a prank from Aconite: waking up to find that your bedroom had been flooded by cow blood.

" **Penelope is her only master, and it's going perfectly well** ," Voldemort smiled.

Bellatrix looked confusingly at Crouch while they were talking in the Dark Lord's office and Crouch was carefully removing the scorpions Aconite had stuffed his pockets with.

"Aconite is not like the rest of her species," Crouch explained. "Her peers are docile and begging for work. Rare are the house-elves who fight for their own freedom. Aconite is neither. She seeks neither fidelity to her masters nor freedom. At least every year, her previous masters freed her because they saw her as deranged. If our Lord hadn't hired her, she would have likely been sent to Azkaban."

"So... letting Penelope act like a brat thanks to that Aconite's influence..." Bellatrix said.

" **Aconite's not making Penelope misbehave. Penelope's misbehaving so that she can keep her slave but also reward the latter** ," Voldemort smirked. " **What better way to indirectly teach my beast the joy of having someone under your finger through sweet promises... and threaten the worst when they misbehave?** "

...

Aconite cut the thread once she had done her Devil's Knot. She smirked and held up the makeshift outfit she had made. "Well, lassie, what do you think?" She asked Penelope after she put on her new outfit while the two were in the walled garden.

Penelope looked up from her book. Aconite had made herself a dress using all the scraps of silk, satin, cotton, and wool that Penelope had collected around for the house-elf. All the scraps were cut up in tiny squares all quilted together and placed in a pattern that almost made one believe Aconite was wearing a black fire.

"You make quilting look more fashionable than the straw rag you wore before," Penelope said.

"Thank you." Aconite straightened her dress. "Shall I trim the branches? Or set up another prank on the Death Eaters?"

"How about you sit down?" Penelope patted the patch of grass she was sitting on. Aconite looked curiously at her, but eventually sat down.

"Now, what?" Aconite asked.

"I've been meaning to ask, Aconite. Back when we first met on my birthday at the Ministry... I don't believe that the way I talked was the thing that slipped to you that I'm half-breed. Was it?"

Aconite looked silently at Penelope. She then said: "You got a stench that only the demon-blooded can smell."

Penelope frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Not many wizards do. Half-breeds aren't a new discovery, but a half-wizard, half-demon one? It's new." Aconite looked up at the Hawthysteria, which was now full of leafless branches. "I'm not a half-breed. I'm just another wizard's experiment. The only thing that you and I share in common is that we were the production of a contract with a demon."

"So what happened? I mean, we're you... born like this or..."

"Complicated. My very first master... He was strange. He was a half-blood so fascinated in understanding the different mentalities in the wizarding world that differed from the Muggles. He was especially curious in wondering why my kind was full of docile doormats. He fabricated a spell that would split personalities, separating certain aspects into two. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough magic to power up his spell, so he came to a contract with a demon." Aconite pointed at Penelope. "Not a pacifist demon like the one who gave birth to you. No, we're talking demon like far much scarier than your typical boggart."

"I'll guess the wizard didn't realize the demon's intentions?"

"No. My first master... He thought _any_ demon would work... His mistake was to contract one who cared less if his contributions corrupted the wizard's spell. In the demon's mind, he gave the wizard what he wanted. The wizard only realized his mistake _after_ he tested the spell on me."

Penelope began to catch on. "His spell caused your original body to split into two. One to hold your best quality-personality... and the second, _you_..."

Aconite pointed at some of the flowers that grew in the garden, specifically the ones with her name. "There's a reason why I have the name of a bloody poisonous plant... Not some childish name that the other house-elves get. The rest... you know what happened to me. Even though he did not create me the way the Dark Lord created you, the demon contributed by giving his blood. The 'qualities' that make me Aconite also included the demon's blood... thus why I sniffed you out as a half-demon."

"It's so weird..." Penelope shook her head. "Either everyone is stupid or all the wizards I encountered who do not live in the same castle as me didn't think anything was wrong with me."

"Don't go wrong. There are _some_ house-elves who show up as nasty to those who aren't their employers. The wizards just see me as a deranged house-elves. But none can really _see_ what is really there."

"Uh?"

"Demons are hardly seen by witches and wizards. They are also _highly_ manipulative and have great camouflage. When you were in the Ministry, your desire to blend in and appear as an ordinary three-year-old got to their heads and _they saw based on how you wanted to be seen_."

Penelope blinked her eyes while taking the words in. "So... hiding the inner monster and tricking everyone else by using the face and lips of an angel."

"Yep." Aconite sneered. "But you know what they say. The loveliest flowers have the deadliest thorns, the sweetest nectar with the worst of poisons. Here, let me show you."

Aconite got up and pulled Penelope to the patch of venomous tentacula bordering the irises. "Look what I do," the house-elf told the child. She held out her left hand and turned it in a clockwise motion. Sure enough, the green tentacles of the venomous tentacula and the leaves of the irises began to move towards one another like lovers desperate to reach one another. Aconite let her hand down, prompting the plants to sigh as they let go.

"Go on," Aconite told Penelope. "Try what I did, but _feel_ like you want them to be together."

Penelope looked hesitantly at the house-elf. She looked at the plants, took a deep breath, and held her hand out. She imagined the plants coiling to each other like snakes at mating time. The child held out her small hand, slowly turning it clockwise, and the magic took place. Creating some kind of miniature column, the plants had coiled up to one another, making the column look like it was piled up with green nest of living, purple snakes.

"I did it!" Penelope exclaimed in excitement.

"Good lassie," Aconite smiled. "Now, slowly pull your fingers for a clutch. _Feel the plants_ merging as you say ' _Flosmixtio'._ "

Penelope closed her eyes. It was hard to imagine the plants becoming a hybrid, but some other image came up in her head. She then reopened her eyes and whispered the spell smoothly. " _Flosmixtio._ "

A glow of teal-colored magic came out of her hand and hit the plants, covering them in a same-colored aura. Thousands of hissings were heard, as if each cell within the plants were screaming. The hissing and aura then disappeared. Penelope and Aconite looked down to see that the venomous tentacula and the irises were gone. All that stood now was a new form of flowering plant. It had tentacle leaves slithering while attached from the dark green, bone-thick stem, and the blooming purple flower was now shaped like a snake biting its tail. It opened its mouth to free its tail and spit acidic pollen at the females, but Penelope and Aconite quickly ducked and backed away. The snake flower hissed at them and bit its tail back again.

"Rude!" Aconite said sternly to the plant.

"I don't believe it..." Penelope looked down at her own hands. "I... I just unleashed my very first spell!"

"Ain't it great?" Aconite smirked. "So, what do you want to call it?"

 _..._

Voldemort had been watching from his window the whole scene of Aconite teaching Penelope how to make hybrid plants.

" **That house-elf just helped me in getting Penelope to use her own magic and casting spells** ," he said with a sadistic eagerness. " **My job is so much easier.** "

"I feel partially embarrassed," Crouch said. "We bust our pureblood bottoms for almost four years to make that half-breed recite any spell and a _house-elf_ beat us to it!" He fell on his knees. "I have disgraced you, milord."

" **Shut up, and get back on your feet, Crouch! Things are going exactly as expected.** "

Bellatrix and Crouch looked at each other in confusion.

" **You two didn't hear what Aconite just told my brat? Demons are highly manipulative**." He clasped his hands on his desk. " **Naturally, I am incredible at catching up to their deception. Even a nature demon like Svjetla didn't expect that a mere genius like would poison her in case she double-crossed me.** "

"I think I see where this is going," Bellatrix said. "You knew that Aconite was the fabrication of yet another wizard making a pact with a demon. Thus, the stupid house-elf would teach Penelope how to control her demonic talents, such including manipulation..."

" **And I know what her best dark talents are so that I may manipulate her further.** "

...

The first Monday of May was incredibly rainy. The basilisks had taken the opportunity of going hunting in the glen, but Penelope chose to stay in. Digesting too many field mice caused Bloodyle to have diarrhea and pass out. Penelope occupied herself by jotting down more ideas on how the magical tricks Aconite had taught her could help her create more venomous plants. Last Saturday, they used some flowers crossing a toad and an aconite and brewed a potion that caused Bayen to vomit.

Perhaps she could make some plant that would reveal how much her father felt for her?

Out of nowhere, just for thinking about a love potion, a lightning bolt emerged out of nowhere and zapped her.

"Try not to think about love potions, lassie." Aconite said passively as she worked on weaving some kind of silk using the leaves of the Tentirises (the name they gave to the plant hybrid of venomous tentacula and irises). "Even a mere thought of one of its ingredients, and you'll beat the world's record of witch who managed to survive the struck of lighting."

"Who held the record?" Penelope frowned as she tried to straighten her hair.

"Some Greek witch thought she could summon lightning without her wand on Mt Olympus. Took her three days of using magic on thunder before her hair drained its color and then she got drained of her life."

"Ouch."

"Aye."

"I really don't know why, but lately I keep getting zapped whenever I think of love potions." Cue new lighting strike.

"It's the catch to people who are born from love potions: their lassies are forbidden from any use of that potion. They cannot _make_ the potion, they can't _use_ it, they can't be _affected_ by it, and you can't think about any ingredients from that potion unless it can also be used for another potion."

"OK. I swear on the River Styx that I will stay true to my condition and never get involved in the crafting of love potions, as long as I don't get zapped during conversations." Penelope looked cautiously above her head. "If you ask me, Aconite, I think the potion is stupid."

No lightning occurred.

"Problem with you lassie is that anything you don't find sense in, it's stupid. They come up with these potions not so much for how we use them, but for _how we learn from them_. If you just got your leg's bone twisted and you tried some kind of Fast-Healing Tonic, you'll end up finding that sometimes things are best healed over time."

"In that case, the purpose of the love potion was to find true love? It's pathetic." Then again, when Penelope thought about it, her grandmother was desperate for love, so she used a love potion, but when she removed the spell under the belief that her interest would share the feeling, she died of heartbreak. Voldemort was born without knowing what the mere internal feeling of love was, and so far the most love Penelope had experience was the one of her late mother, the basilisks' familial care for her, the kindness of the Scamander family, her ghostly grandmother's fondness, and, well, whatever was going between her and the creepy house-elf.

"I wonder if my mother actually had some weird affection for him," she said. "I mean, she was a demon. Wouldn't she have outsmarted him?"

Aconite finished her weaving and snapped her fingers, having some scissors, thread, and a needle cut up the silk and patch it into something wonderful. "It's the problem with demons and wizards, lassie. They both think they can outsmart the other. My wizard creator thought he knew how to 'work' with a neutrally chaotic demon and your demon parent thought she had the level above your father. Any can be worse than the devil in those 'deal with the devil' old wives tales." She looked at her sewing masterpiece. "What do you think?"

Penelope looked at what Aconite had fashioned. It was a dress, and the way Aconite made it was a beauty. With the weaved Tentirises, the snake patterns looked like they were moving as the silk did. The dress's tiered skirt had three different layers of blue and the silver top had flowing sleeves. The perfect accessory to accompany the dress was a teal belt with a silver snake for a clasp.

Penelope tried on the dress. She smiled as she twirled to make the skirt spin. "It's so pretty."

"You could pretend you're the stolen princess of a fairy kingdom and your dark spell will be broken on the day you fall in love with a fairy prince just like you." Aconite chuckled in disbelief. "Great, look at what you made me do. You're making me act like a silly Muggle."

Penelope let out a giggle.

...

Bellatrix dropped the latest editions of the DAILY PROPHET onto the dining table for her master and Crouch to see it.

"'Muggles and their sheep herds reported poisoned all over Yorkshire'!" She hissed. "That bloody house-elf has done her merry-making far enough while your brat has done nothing but play in dirt!"

" **I'd advise you to watch your tongue, Bellatrix** ," Voldemort warned in strict calmness.

"Forgive her, milord," Crouch said as politely as he could. "All Bellatrix is saying is that while your plans to use Aconite to spark more evil in your daughter sounded initially promising, we are concerned that it's not progressing. True, Penelope is doing wonders at growing poisonous plants, creating new species, and using them for the potions tutoring the Carrow siblings are giving her. However, her dominance over Aconite is extinct. She treats the house-elf not as a rightful slave but as an equal friend. She does not assert any authority on the latter and since Penelope lets Aconite do and say whatever she pleases, Aconite abuses her time away from her by going off to kill Muggles. If we aren't careful, Aconite might as well wave a banner for the Aurors to come collecting us for Azkaban..."

" **Aconite terrorizing Muggles and not acting like a slave is the least of my problems!** " Voldemort snapped. " **Nagini overheard Aconite and Penelope talking about our immunity to love potions.** "

"You don't think Penelope is going to try to reverse that immunity so she can enchant you to stop abusing her, do you?" Crouch frowns.

" **Ha!** " Voldemort laughed so loudly, his creepy laugh echoed on the walls. " **Don't be stupid. Unlike Penelope, I have no understanding of any love of the sort, thus I hold love to nothing, not even my own offspring. However, since Penelope had love from her late demonic mother, she's not as sturdy as I am.** " He held up a glass full of wine in his right hand for his minions to see. " **Imagine Penelope as this glass and the wine her entire life force. As long as the glass is in my hand, I can control it. When the time comes for me to use it, I consume it. But, when it finds a key...** "

He crushed the glass in his hands. Glass shards and wine stained the table. Voldemort used magic to heal his cuts.

" **Until I can make the evil fully come out of Penelope, I have her kill weaklings on her birthday and I rip out pieces of her soul. The Kraken Needles I hammered on her back ensure the soul link between us. If a time comes when I am near death, Penelope will be my way to survival. But the only way she can break our soul link is the day she gets her first kiss from someone... who truly loves her despite that she is my daughter. If Aconite encourages her in thinking dangerous thoughts, Penelope will be desperate for love.** "

"Shall we perform a Killing Curse on Aconite then?" Bellatrix asked.

" **No. I have a better idea.** "

...

For the first time ever, Penelope woke up with mixed feelings on the morning of her fourth birthday. She knew what to expect from her creator, which was the negative part, but on the positive part, she was eager to spend a birthday for the first time with a friend. The child immediately cleaned up and put on the Tentirises dress, hoping to see Aconite smile.

Penelope got out of her crummy room and looked around the basilisks' chamber. "Where's Aconite?"

" _The Dark Lord..._ " Bloodyle bit her lips. " _He's waiting upstairs for you... with Aconite._ "

The child's eyes widened in horror. Against Bloodyle's protests, she ran out of the chamber and shoved Wormtail out of the way. She ran up the stairs, through the hallway, and opened the door to find the man she hated most in the living room, his main lapdogs standing nervously behind the couch... and Aconite tied up and gagged in chains, her eyes showing a dazed expression. Aconite looked like she had been drugged.

" **Your house-elf has outlived her usefulness** ," Voldemort said in his dangerous calm tone. " **Proceed with the Killing Curse.** "

"You... you know I can't do that!" Penelope started crying.

" **Penelope, unless you want me to do it myself, you will perform the Killing Curse on Aconite! Now!** "

Penelope couldn't stop crying as her father placed his wand in her hands and push her arm to have it target Aconite's head. The latter was drooling from the administered.

"A...A..." Penelope stammered.

" **Do it!** "

" _Avada Kadavra._ " Penelope broke into sobbing the moment the spell struck Aconite. The house-elf lied dead on the ground, but the Death Eaters couldn't celebrate yet when they noticed the female house-elf's body transforming into the one of a smaller and scrawnier male house-elf.

" **What on Earth**?" The Dark Lord was so confused, he searched through the corpse's clothing until he landed on a red envelope. The moment he opened its seal, it transformed into the talking mouth card wizards call a Howler.

" _Too bad, so sad, eh, Voldemort?_ " Aconite's voice cackled through the Howler. " _The next time you plot to dispose of a house-elf, make sure that the house-elf isn't around to hear your plots! I had enough time to use one of my own to pose as myself through Polyjuice Potion and since your daughter was kind enough to dismiss me with a jacket, I'm now on my way to somewhere!_ " The Howler then floated towards Penelope, who had dried her crocodile tears and smiled at the red paper mouth. " _Lassie, I will miss you very much. I've had many kind masters, but you were a tough one who didn't want to rid of me easily. The day you finally work away from the Dark Lord will be the day I serve you permanently._ "

The Howler shredded itself into thousands of pieces, raining its remains on the carpeted floors. A sound came out of Penelope. It wasn't a sound the Dark Lord nor the Death Eaters were familiar with.

A laugh.

The young child laughed hysterically, a strange twisted laugh that came straight from the soul. She was laughing at them for getting toyed by an abominable house-elf, for being conned by a half-breed like herself, and for not thinking twice about the innocent victim they had murdered. In a fit of rage, Voldemort dragged Penelope out the room. Everyone in the castle from the dungeons to the basilisks' chamber cringed when they heard the harmony of pained screams and twisted laughter echoing in the halls.

 _Present_

Céline Flamel and Mr. Cook stopped talking about the book when the housekeeper urged them to see the dreadful news on television. The rain had ceased, but now tears were flooding all over Auradon.

Carlos DeVil, Cruella's son, had passed away. He had been found dead in his bed due to a seizure claiming his life. His girlfriend Jane was heartbroken, his dog Dude whimpering, his best friends Jay, Mal, and Evie devastated, and all the other VKs who had known him were grieving. King Ben had ordered a week of no work in respect for his lost friend as they prepared Carlos' funeral. He was to be buried at the Royal Cemetery. Even Cruella DeVil, who wasn't known for her loving maternal side, had broken into tears when she found out her son had passed away before she did.

Mr. Cook was still in tears as he escorted Ms. Flamel to the front door. "He was too young," he said miserably. "I don't even want to know how that parasite of illness got to him!"

Ms. Flamel shed no tear, but her expression was as equally upset as his. "In my time of exploration, journalism, and with my grandfather, I learned one cruel lesson. Death is inevitable, yes, but unfortunately it does not discriminate on whom it will claim. It took the boy too early."

"You sound like you've had the experience."

"I'd rather not talk about it. I'll see you next week, when the mourning doves have begun to lead the others towards a future of suffering and acceptance."

 **Note from the author: I'm really sorry for the downer ending of the chapter, but after finding out about the death of Cameron Boyce, I had to.**


	6. The First Funeral

Chapter 6: The First Funeral

For the duration of the week, there wasn't a single window in the entire country. The stores were closed, the restaurants were empty, and nobody socialized for their amusement. The few people who did come out were those who pulled down their bright Auradon banners to replace with black and white mourning flags. Some magic-wielders used their magic to close shut any blooming flower they saw and replace them with white peonies or black roses. And then there were the local artists who spray-painted pictures of Carlos DeVil on the walls; the police didn't arrest them and merely contended with bringing lit candles to put down by the memorial artworks. Some had kids who placed their dog plushies next to the candles.

The Royal Cemetery was crowded with people from Auradon, Auradon Prep, the Isle of the Lost, Dragon Hall, and St Luther Rose Academy, all dressed in mourning clothes. As the sky turned grey, they began to bring in Carlos' coffin. It was made of black mahogany with a white lid. Half of the lid was made of glass, revealing Carlos in a permanent sleeping state. His arms had been crossed and despite being dead, he had been dressed in a suit matching the one he had worn on Family Day.

They planned on burying his coffin underneath a statue of him. Many speeches were done, and the Trolls, surprisingly experts in singing mournful songs, took care of the choir.

Trolls: _Near, far, wherever you are  
I believe that the heart does go on  
Once more you open the door  
And you're here in my heart  
And my heart will go on and on_

"Friends, family, enemies, and beloved ones," Ben began to speak first. "We have lost a very dear person. To some, he was just Carlos DeVil, the son of Cruella DeVil, a VK, or maybe even an outcast. But many have seen him as a best friend, an ally, a little brother, and a true love." Ben briefly looked at Jane, whose eyes were still watery and red. "He was smart, funny, shy, and timid. He had a rough childhood but he always sought to make the rest of his life better and..." Ben swallowed his Adam's apple but still cried. "He left too early to continue onward with his happily ever.

Trolls: _It's over, isn't it? Isn't it?  
Isn't it over?  
It's over, isn't it? Isn't it?  
Isn't it over?  
You won and he chose you  
And he loved you and he's gone  
It's over, isn't it?  
Why can't I move on?_

"Oh, Carlos!" Jane pretty much went hysterical and cried over his coffin. "You appreciated me and loved me how I was! I was happy the moment you and I began dating and I hoped you and I would go on to have a happily ever after together! So why did Fate do this to you?"

Trolls: _Yes, of course we still love him...  
And we're always thinking of him...  
But now there's nothing we can do, so tell me...  
What's the use of feeling?  
What's the use of feeling?  
What's the use of feeling, Blue?_

"Carlos, you weren't just our best friend," Jay spoke as he, Evie, and Mal held hands in front of the coffin. "You were our little brother. The moment we left the Isle, we saw you changing and prepared to give so much."

"I still never forget how you befriended Dude and stood up to your mom," Mal nodded and sniffed. "You were definetly the first to stand up against our parents."

"You're irreplaceable, you know that, right?" Evie asked tearfully.

Trolls: _We've always dreamed_ _  
_ _That his life would be_ _  
_ _Like a fairy tale_ _  
_ _A perfect fantasy_ _  
_ _Everyday a new adventure_ _  
_ _On some undiscovered shore_ _  
_ _Was it nothing more_ _  
_ _Than a dream_

"Goodbye, kid." Coach Jenkins placed Carlos' old Tourney T-shirt by the statue. He took off his hat and held it close to his heart.

Everyone placed their token of mourning: a dog leash, a framed picture, an action figure, a floral bouquet, and other items for the rest of the speech ceremony. When the coffin was finally placed within the earth, they pulled the statue to cover the hole. The words became clearer on the statue.

 **Carlos DeVil**

 **1999-2019**

 **"The world is undoubtedly without one of its brightest lights, but his spirit will live on through the kindness and compassion of all who knew and loved him."**

Faeries from the Fae Realm used their powers to have black and white roses grow at the base of Carlos' mortuary statue. Marius held Penna close in his arms as she cried. Unlike Ruby a few stories ago, she had nothing to resurrect Carlos. And anyone who knew Carlos figured that he would have been against it.

Numerous villains had been revived for a fate worse than death. Carlos was now the first of the descendants to obtain the promise of a good afterlife.

Trolls: _But if this ever changin' world  
In which we live in  
Makes you give in and cry  
Say live and let die  
Live and let die_

 _A week and a half later_

The mourning people found themselves moving forward again. Still, as Céline Flamel made her way to see Mr. Cook at the park, she saw that nobody forgot Carlos DeVil. She saw some street artists painting yet another mural of the boy, people now had their dogs wear black-and-white clothing, children came out of the pet stores with Dalmatian puppies, and Céline Flamel jut drank a milkshake now known as the Caramel DeVil.

The park was rather quiet today. Then again, it was a Monday. People were at work, but Mr. Cook decided to spend it in the park due to the quietness. As she walked under the trees, Céline Flamel read a copy of the Daily Prophet. Clearly, the same way Muggles moved forward, the wizards went on with interviewing the royal fiancées at any chance they got.

Céline Flamel finally found Mr. Cook. He was sitting at a chess table, which he used as a platform to read the massive book, while drinking tea. The witch sat at the spare seat facing him.

"How are you doing today?" she asked him.

"A bit delayed. Along with discussing your book, I also had to deal with the numerous VKs who begged me for the chance to write Carlos DeVil's biography. I'm staying in touch with Mal on email, so she may give me recommendations on the best qualified writers." He looked up from his book. "I must say, I've read sections that seems to imply that De Mort's childhood got duller after Aconite faked her death."

"Naturally, the Dark Lord took serious precautions. Interacting with another demon half-breed sparked Pénélope's manipulative side, and her father realized he had to be overly cautious."

"Well, until this point." Mr. Cook pointed at the page.

 _July 1910_

Voldemort didn't like where things were going.

The Death Eaters had done their occasional field trips around Europe and come back with numerous wizarding newspapers. There wasn't a single one of them that said nothing else besides the rise of a new dark wizard, Gellert Grindelwald. Every single paper talked about him, and since he was less discreet than Voldemort, there were also mentions of rises in Muggle anti-witch conspiracy theorists like the New Salem Philanthropic Society in America.

The only good news he had heard lately were that racial riots were occurring due to some boxing match on the American Independence Day.

" **Grindelwald is a menace to my business** ," was his shortest answer to Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Jr.

"The man is an insult to magical blood purity!" Bellatrix nodded. "I heard purebloods follow him, yet he's less focused on making us superior than he is in liberating wizards from the hiding misery we have endured and to retaliate against the Muggle oppressors!"

"At the same time, his words are far more convincing than a snake's," Barty commented. "He actually charms his followers into joining him and remaining loyal."

" **And that's the problem** ," Voldemort agreed. " **I rely on fear to keep my Death Eaters on a leash. Unfortunately, Grindelwald uses sincerity, wizarding compatriotic methods, and twisted words of kindness a thousand witches and wizards faster than it normally gets me to have a pureblood join me.** "

"Are you worried that with his peculiar sense of charisma, he might convince Penelope to betray you?"

" **Yes. I can't request an application form to send Penelope to Durmstrang Institute next year. That school used to be his turf in his school days. Last thing I need is for him to saunter his way there and snatch her!** "

"But sir! You realize that this means we must wait until next summer to see an owl bringing the girl an acceptance letter from Hogwarts?" Bellatrix was baffled. "She'll be surrounded by Muggle-huggers, blood traitors, and worse, filthy Mudbloods!"

"For all we know, Bellatrix, the master's child would naturally be placed in Slytherin." Barty shrugged. "At least she'll be surrounded by _true_ wizards."

" **Barty is right. Besides, even without Grindelwald out there, Durmstrang has a strict 'purebloods only application' that prevents me from sending Penna there. And knowing my old enemy, he'll definetly make sure to send her an owl.** "

...

While the grownups were talking, the children were playing outside. Against the normal British weather, there was an insufferable heat, but the children played with water-based spells. Well, the most spells Bayen and Roedor could come up with were filling balloons with water. Penelope, on the other hand, succeeded in creating water snakes from the fountain and had them spit water at the boys. Brittany laughed her face off.

"I'm bored!" Penelope stomped her foot once the boys were beyond soaked. "Let's play something else!"

Roedor groaned, for he disliked being the chew toy of Penelope's antics, because now that she was ten, she got used to willingly bullying Roedor and Bayen. She knew perfectly that by playing dirty on them, Voldemort would give her the satisfaction of some alone time. Bayen merely picked up a daisy and weakly smiled at Penelope as he tried giving it to her. He didn't react when she used magic to disintegrate the flower.

"Why don't we go to town?" Brittany offered. "I heard some wizards mentioning that hippogriff caretakers are going to pass by this afternoon."

"A hippogriff?" Penelope asked.

"Yeah. It's like a flying pony with a beak. My daddy says they are easily provoked."

"Well your daddy's stupid." Bayen snorted. "My mommy thinks so."

"Please! Auntie Bellatrix has the brain of a pig! She might as well ask the Dark Lord to eat her and give her bones to Nagini!" Brittany snickered.

"Don't talk about my mommy this way!"

"Guys! Can we not fight?" Roedor begged.

This was pretty much the same thing at every playtime. Bayen Lestrange and Brittany Crouch would always go on to argue and attempt ripping their throats out on which of their parents were the best Death Eater. Roedor, being the coward, always tried to meekly ask them to cease their fighting. Penelope shook her head, disgusted by their fight. She made her way to her garden, which had grown bigger over the years, with more venomous plants in her collection. Without Aconite to trim her plants, she had to do it herself, but thanks to the house-elf's teachings, Penelope had created a multitude of hybrid plants.

Penelope knelt by the Hawthysteria and pulled out a black box. As she opened it and took out the hidden books, Merope's ghost came out of the tree.

"Another sneak out at Little Hangleton?" the ghost asked.

"You know how those twits are," Penelope shrugged. "They'll argue until next Tuesday. I'm going to return the books to the library and get new ones."

"Are you sure he won't notice?"

"He hasn't been paying much attention to me ever since Grindelwald made his mark in the newspapers. I'll be back in time for dinner."

"OK. Be careful, have a good time at the library, and be home before dusk."

Penelope was correct about the other children being too preoccupied with their arguing and the adults debating on the issue with Grindelwald. No one took any notice as the ten-year-old hybrid walked her merry way out of her garden, out of the Riddle Estate, and through the dull green hills that led to Little Hangleton. Penelope had remembered what Aconite had told her, that demons could deceive others into what they wanted to see, and she used it to camouflage herself when she made her way through Muggles to reach the local library for wizards.

None of the Muggles suspected her. For all they imagined, Penelope looked like the adorable child of some aristocrats, clearly cultured considering how often she came into town with new books at hand. This made the local Muggle parents discipline their own children whenever they were caught failing school.

Penelope cautiously made her way through the alley behind a Muggle bakery and barber's shop. She stopped when she saw a sign hanging from the wall.

 **Alexis Yaga Bookstore of the Enchanted**

Today was Monday, so the library was still open. Penelope went in.

The Bookstore of the Enchanted was a medium-sized library, perhaps two-and-a-half stories tall. It was impossible to know where the doors leading to the bathroom and the librarian's apartment were since bookshelves were covering every inch of every wall and door. Through enchantments, the returned books levitated themselves back to their shelves. Penelope put down her returned books on the librarian's desk and floated their way back to their respective shelves.

"Well, if it isn't the little witch who borrows more books than my longest library members!" Alexis Yaga came in by pushing a door open, dropping some books in the process. He swished and flicked his wand to put the books back in place. "So, what will you want to borrow now?"

"I was thinking I could read _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ , _Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts_ , _Dream Oracle, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, History of Magic, Home Life And Social Habits of British Muggles, Advanced Potion-Making, Ancient Runes Made Easy,_ and _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ ," Penelope said.

Alexis Yaga stared at the child with his middle-aged marble grey eyes. "But Penelope... you're not even in Hogwarts yet," he spoke cautiously.

"I know." She nodded.

"And most of these books aren't even for first-years."

"I know."

Alexis Yaga sighed in defeat. He knew there was no way he could convince the girl to change her mind. Penelope had been coming to the library for a few years now with no adult escorting her. She had already read every single book meant for any witch or wizard of her age and occasionally borrowed books with such complicated vocabulary, only an Auror would understand. She did read some of the Muggle-written books he had secured for his library, but she refused to bring these books home and preferred reading them here in his library overwhelmed by the scent of Russian spices.

"Well, most of these books are currently borrowed by local children to do some summer studies before they go to Hogwarts. I can mostly recommend _History of Magic_ and _Advanced Potion-Making._ "

"Thank you." Penelope watched as he summoned the two books. "Do you have any new Muggle-written books?"

"Oh, yes. I have _The Secret Garden_ by Frances Hodgson Burnett, _Rewards and Fairies_ by Rudyard Kipling, and _The Phantom of the Opera_ by Gaston Leroux."

"May I read those, please?"

Alexis Yaga nodded. He first stamped the two wizarding books that Penelope sought to borrow and then went on to hand her the three new Muggle-written books. Penelope went on to snuggle in one of his Russian silk made armchairs and started reading. Time went on and Alexis Yaga and anybody who came to check out a book were rather stunned by the sight of her. Contrary to most children who quickly read, shut the book and went back home, Penelope re-read each book at least five times. It was as if she spent every minute dissecting the words that went to her head, as if she were trying to teach herself something new. Occasionally, she was seen shedding a few tears as she read. By now, most of the library members managed to figure out that Penelope must have come from a rough pureblood family, but they could imagine that a sweet child like Penelope would be born from such bigots. They saw her _sobbing_ while reading some books. Some have tried to offer her tea, a cookie, or even a hug, but she still refused to tell what upset her? Was it an abusive parent? A lack of friends? Maybe wishing that she could live with Muggles, feel their freedom? Feel unloved?

By five o'clock, library members made themselves scarce. Alexis had the brooms and dusters clean up the library when Penelope stacked the books she had been reading back to their shelves.

"It's getting late, Penelope," Alexis Yaga said. "Shouldn't you be heading home?"

"I don't feel like going back." Not to mention that it felt like a vacation for her: with Voldemort so worried about Grindelwald, he actually ignored. She had actually pulled an all-nighter hunt with the basilisks a few weeks ago and Voldemort didn't even react when she yawned the next afternoon.

Alexis Yaga bit his lip. Sure, the right thing to do would be to convince Penelope to go back home, but Penelope _really_ hated her home. "I suppose that maybe I could take you to dinner at the local inn and escort you until your halfway home."

...

He took her to THE HUNGRY HORNTAIL, the local inn for wizards. Normally such things wouldn't be recommended for young children, but Alexis Yaga got Penelope some butterbeer. As their sliced meats and porridges was brought to them, the librarian noted on how Penelope didn't consume the butterbeer the way other children wolf down a chocolate frog. Once she took a sip, she let the flavor sink into her stomach.

"You must be overly eager to go to Hogwarts next year," he tried to start a conversation. "When I was eleven, I was sorted into Ravenclaw. You can imagine how proud my parents were: the oldest child of a couple of Russian wizard immigrants, sorted into the house of the intelligent and creative. Who knows? With your love of books, Ravenclaw might be your house."

"My father and his friends are very convinced that I will be a Slytherin like them," Penelope shook her head.

Alexis Yaga sadly sighed. He knew that tragically, there was no escape clause for the children of pureblood wizards and witches sorted into Slytherin for generations.

The door of THE HUNGRY HORNTAIL bursted open and a witch screamed at the top of her lungs. "Grindelwald's followers are in the region!"

This alarmed all the tenants.

"What do you mean? What happened?" The innkeeper came out of his kitchen.

"The hippogriff that was supposed to be escorted through Little Hangleton to the Scamander family's farm was killed just before it and its delivery boys reached the town! One of the delivery boys apparated in my house all bloody and scarred! He told me everything! His friend was murdered along with the hippogriff!"

Everyone began to panic. "Everyone! For your safety, remain indoors. Those of you who haven't rented, go back home!"

Alexis Yaga grabbed Penelope's hand and quickly paid the innkeeper. "Penelope, where do you live exactly? I must take you home at once."

"Across the glen," she answered.

"Across the glen!" Both Alexis Yaga and the innkeeper gasped.

"Child, are your parents insane? Across the glen is where most Death Eaters lurk, and with Grindelwald's minions now visiting!" The innkeeper shook his head. "No, you must stay here for the evening!"

"My father will be very angry if I don't come home," Penelope shook her head.

"I'm afraid she's right," Alexis Yaga told the innkeeper. "I already dread that her father might be abusive enough, but I'm sure she'd be safer with him than in a potential targeting zone for that maniac of a dark wizard."

 _How ironic, considering that I live with the king of maniacal dark wizards_ , Penelope thought dramatically in her head.

"Very well, just let me grab my pickax," the innkeeper said. "The child will be safer if she's escorted by two adults."

…

The sky had darkened by the time the three made their way through the pine forest. Penelope knew that this was the longer route back home, but what was she supposed to do? Letting Alexis Yaga and the innkeeper escort her halfway back home with the way she took earlier and they'd have the full visual of the Riddle Estate infested by Death Eaters. Then all that would be left would be death, or worse, Penelope losing her library membership. So she told the two men to take her as far as the glen, and they complied.

"Your father must be insane to live in this area," the innkeeper remarked as the trees' shadows began to stain the man-made road. "With Death Eaters lurking and now Grindelwald's followers visiting…"

"He's crazy," Penelope admitted, "but usually he succeeds in keeping intruders away."

"What does he have? A Whomping Willow?" Alexis Yaga asked. "I'll never forget the one at Hogwarts. It damaged nearly half of a Gryffindor fifth-year who tried to defy it as part of a bet. And he was a Beater in Quidditch to boot!"

"Oh, do you know that the World Cup will soon resume? I still deem Bulgaria as the best team!" The innkeeper commented. Next thing Penelope knew, the adults were distracted in their talk of Quidditch. She rolled her eyes, wondering what it was about sports that men liked so much. Even she and Brittany didn't bat an eye when Roedor and Bayen managed to knock out a tooth each.

They stopped. Something laid ahead, a carriage of some sort. It was knocked over, one of its wheels ripped off, and the horses laid dead.

"Stay behind us." Alexis Yaga gestured Penelope to cautiously stay behind them while he pulled out his wand and the innkeeper held out his pickax and wand separately. They cautiously approached the carriage. While the innkeeper checked on the dead horses, Alexis Yaga opened up the carriage and found some dead passengers. He searched through them for any signs.

"Muggle travelers," he said. "All of them are dead and it's definetly not from the influenza."

"The horses also don't have any signs of those marbles the Muggles use for their powdered sticks." Penelope rolled her eyes at the innkeeper's ignorance. Why was it that even a ten-year-old like herself knew what a Muggle gun was but the adult wizards didn't?

"A Killer Curse, then." Alexis Yaga stepped off the carriage. "Death Eaters must have killed them."

 _Not their type,_ Penelope thought. _Sure, the Death Eaters dislike Muggles, but they wouldn't waste magic like this unless the passengers were Mudbloods._

"Or Grindelwald's followers killed them. Make it a warning for the local wizards," the innkeeper theorized. "I heard he likes to show off his crimes."

 _True, but he's far from the nearest audience._ Then her thought made Penelope froze.

From what she learned, Gellert Grindelwald was someone who liked to show the wizarding world his crimes and messages, unlike Voldemort who liked to work in the shadows and spread his manipulative methods with ease without rising suspicions. And this wasn't exactly the ideal area to terrorize numerous witches and wizards like a school or a big city… unless Grindelwald wanted to attract the attention of the local dark wizards.

"We have to go!" Penelope yanked Alexis Yaga by the robe. "I have to go home now!"

"I know, but…"

The wind stopped blowing. For some reason, they felt like they were being watched. The adults held out their wands and pointed it ahead of them, waiting for someone to come out. Alexis Yaga held Penelope close to him as shadows began to appear from the woods. A witch and a wizard, dressed in current fashion and coats, walked casually and stopped before them.

"Who are you?" Alexis Yaga asked cautiously.

"Mere travelers," the witch spoke in a French accent. "We heard distant sounds of a carriage falling over. What happened to your horses?"

"These aren't our horses." For some reason, the librarian's suspicious tone seemed to falter to a more eased one, it disturbed Penelope. "We believe dark wizards killed those Muggles."

"Thank goodness you weren't hurt," the wizard accompanying the French witch said.

"We weren't."

"Then let's go!" Penelope yanked.

"Penelope, it's OK." The child's eyes widened when he pulled himself away from her temporarily. "Forgive her, she's terrified. We were just bringing her home."

"Oh, this sweet thing?" The French witch bent down on her knees and smiled at Penelope. "Aren't you darling? How old are you?"

Penelope didn't like to do this, but she decided to give up trying to convince Alexis Yaga to leave. "I'm old enough to know that Grindelwald's cronies don't attack a Muggle carriage and kill its passengers for the fun of it unless they wanted to attract the attention of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord." She saw the witch losing her smile. "And the attack of the hippogriff? I bet your leader knew that because Alexis Yaga wouldn't let me go home by myself past dark and with you killing a transported hippogriff, I'd beg to use the longer route, the one furthest from the Dark Lord's Estate."

Alexis Yaga and the innkeeper looked in horror at Penelope. "You… your father is a Death Eater?" Alexis Yaga choked.

"No, her father leads them."

From behind, a vine wrapped itself around Penelope's wrists, bounding her. She tripped backward and landed in someone's arms. Fear overwhelmed her as she found herself being carried by Grindelwald himself.

"I highly doubt the Dark Lord won't notice that I plan on taking his half-breed offspring." Grindelwald spoke calmly. "Vinda, Abernathy, would you please make sure these two don't bother us?"

"Of course." Vinda smiled and aimed her wand at Alexis Yaga. Penelope frowned. Unlike Voldemort having his minions bark orders and threaten to feed the Death Eaters to Nagini, Grindelwald politely asked his cronies to attack as if they were in the middle of a tea party and he just asked Vinda to pass the teakettle.

Penelope cringed as Grindelwald passed his hand over her head and petted her, but her cringe then turned into a confused shrug. The dark wizard was trying to kidnap her, yet he was trying to calm her. "You'll like it in Nurmengard," he said in a close-to-reassuring tone. "Your own bedroom, servants who actually care about your well-being, and I'm quite confident that my daughter Lobelia will adore having you as a little sister. Believe me, my dear, you'll be in better hands and with a better future. Your creator clearly mistreats you, but I will treat you better."

Penelope was almost tempted. She had known nothing but abuse, torture, and death her whole life, she pretty much lost any nice friend she tried to make outside of the Riddle Estate, and Voldemort clearly hated her. Grindelwald was pretty much telling her that he'd substitute Voldemort and raise her better if she joined him.

It was tempting, but Penelope thought that being manipulated by one dark wizard was enough. And it's a good thing she learned to use magic without a wand.

" _Crucio!_ " With her bounded hands, she punched Grindelwald on the chest with a Cruciatus Curse. Vinda and Abernathy did look just as shocked as Alexis Yaga and the innkeeper. Penelope removed her bonds just in time to see the innkeeper throw his pickax at her direction. It almost hit her head if it weren't for Alexis Yaga destroying the pickax with a freezing spell.

"Are you daft, Yaga?" The innkeeper snapped. "That monster is the Dark Lord's child!"

"So? Look at her! Didn't you see the way Grindelwald tried to tempt her? The Dark Lord mistreats his own child! Why do you think she didn't want us to take her all the way home? Penelope is not like her father!"

The innkeeper still looked unconvinced. "And what do you think would happen next? She'll end up becoming another Death Eater! She'll be a sadist like the rest of them!"

"I'm not a sadist!" Penelope protested.

"You used an Unforgivable Curse! And you're not even of age to have your own wand!"

"What was I supposed to do? Ask Grindelwald if he could let me go and if he could surrender?"

"At least he would have treated you better than these idiots." Vinda put down her wand and kneeled down to have her eyes at the same level as Penelope's. "Look at them, darling. They first treat you like a normal child and now they are fighting over killing your or not just because you are the Dark Lord's child. You had to _lie_ just to hide who you are. Is this the kind of world you want to live in?"

"Penelope, don't listen to her!" Alexis Yaga warned.

"Our leader Grindelwald sees how all witches and wizards are forced into hiding, exiling themselves in the shadows and doomed to be punished should they make the slightest mistakes," Vinda continued. "Penelope, come with us. He'll give you a better future. We'll take better care of you and you'll be able to live freely."

"No!" Penelope shook her head. "My life is horrible, but I'm not that stupid! Going from one dark wizard to another will still make me a slave, and last thing I need is for Grindelwald to use my father's methods on me!"

"But staying with the Dark Lord will never change other people's opinions," Vinda pointed out. "Do you honestly prefer being hated over being feared?"

Penelope grimaced. There was only one way out of this.

"Mr. Yaga, please run as fast as you can…"

"Penelope…"

" **VOLDEMORT!** "

Gusts of black winds moved in the forests, crushing trees in the process. Vinda and Abernathy were busy counter-attacking spells from the Death Eaters. One of the Death Eaters shot the Killing Curse on the innkeeper. Alexis Yaga picked up Penelope in his arms and carried her away from the fight scene as far as possible. As they distanced themselves from the fight, Penelope saw the Killing Curse shots of Voldemort and Gellert Grindelwald colliding with each other. For a moment, she could have sworn seeing Grindelwald's wand having more power over Voldemort's.

Alexis Yaga managed to carry her all the way to the Riddle Estate. Bloodyle was waiting anxiously and ran up to them the moment Alexis Yaga appeared by the gates with Penelope.

" _Penelope! Thank goodness!"_ Bloodyle gave a constricting hug to Penelope. " _Why didn't you come back? When we heard that Grindelwald was in the area and you weren't with the other children, we freaked out!_ "

"I'm sorry!" Penelope then hugged Alexis Yaga. "I'm really sorry I lied to you!"

"I know," Alexis Yaga patted her on the head. "You're still my favorite little library member."  
"So I still get to come see you at the library?" Penelope sniffed.

"Of course."

" _The Dark Lord will soon return! Go through the valleys, it's the fastest way to Little Hangleton!_ " Bloodyle warned.

Alexis Yaga thanked Bloodyle and bid Penelope good-bye until the next time she came to borrow a book. He ran as fast as he could through the valleys, and by the time he made it to the village, Bloodyle was giving Penelope some hot tea when Voldemort and the others came back. Penelope held her breath, expecting Voldemort to hit her, but instead, he petted her on the head.

" **Until Grindelwald is out of the country, you are not to go to the village without an escort. Understood?** " He asked in a serious tone.

"Yes. I understand." Penelope nodded.

Voldemort noticed the _History of Magic_ and _Advanced Potion-Making_ books that Penelope failed to hide yet. He picked them up, quickly looked through the pages, and noticed the library label and stamp. " **So you've been sneaking out to do more studying? That is very good.** " He handed the books back to Penelope. " **I'm very sure you'll make an excellent student when you go to Hogwarts next year.** "

"So you'll spare Alexis Yaga the librarian?" Penelope pleaded. "I promise on the River Styx that if you spare him, I'll study harder and snake-sit Nagini all the time."

" **That won't be necessary. When I had a small weak moment in our battle, Grindelwald escaped. By the time I caught up to him, he killed the librarian on the doorsteps of his house.** "

…

And Voldemort didn't lie. A neighbor had seen Grindelwald murdering Alexis Yaga and reported the crime to the Aurors. Days later, it was on the Daily Prophet. Weeks later, Penelope was crying at his funeral.

Apparently, Grindelwald made the truth leak out. Now all the wizards in the village thought Alexis Yaga was a Death Eater and knew Penelope was the Dark Lord's daughter. His family didn't even bother mourning or organizing his funeral. Penelope was only ten and she had to do it all by herself. She created a casket from woven Hawthysteria branches, placed the librarian's corpse in it, and buried it next to the Hawthysteria that was already growing in her garden. Penelope and the ghostly Merope Gaunt watched as a new Hawthysteria grew from the buried casket and with it came a ghostly Alexis Yaga.

"I'm really sorry," Penelope cried when Alexis Yaga patted her cheek with his ghostly hand.

"What is there to be sorry about?" the ghost of Alexis Yaga asked. "You only wanted to keep me safe. I appreciate being your friend."

"But you're dead…"

"You think we could make a ghostly library in the garden?" the librarian ghost asked the ghost of Merope.

"Whatever it is, it will be better than the shack I used to live in…" the ghost of Merope commented.

"Don't you two get it?" Penelope shouted. "I'm sick of being lonely! My only friends are monstrous snakes, my dead grandmother and librarian, and a sadist house-elf who's God knows where in the world, and I'm surrounded by freaks who either hate me or want to use me!" Penelope stomped her foot. "I hate my home, I hate the Death Eaters, I hate Voldemort, and I hate how any who likes me ends up dead!"

"But with the wizarding community knowing you exist, there's not much that we can change," the ghostly Alexis Yaga remarked.

"And my son holds you with such a leash, where do you expect to go with him controlling every aspect of your life?" Merope added.

Penelope's grew watery. She fell onto the grass and cuddled herself, her dress staining from the tears. She was so miserable, she did not notice her half-demon veins popping in her hands.


	7. The First Year, Part 1

Chapter 7: The First Year, Part 1

It was the middle of August 1911 and Penelope still couldn't stop re-reading the letter.

 _Dear Ms. Riddle,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on September 1_ _st_ _. We await your owl by no later than July 31_ _st_ _._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

Penelope was eleven and she still couldn't believe she was accepted into Hogwarts. She still couldn't believe Voldemort still wanted her to go to the boarding school in Scotland despite Grindelwald being on the loose. The girl was also certain that Voldemort hated whoever sent the letter to his child since she had been addressed by her last name… and her acceptance letter and supplies list had come with a small note addressed to Tom Riddle.

The Dark Lord did take some precautions, though. After Grindelwald's kidnapping attempt and the tabloid journalists of the Daily Prophet leaking out the rumors about the Dark Lord having a child, he first had Bloodyle go to the Leaky Cauldron in London and rent a room for two for the duration of the summer until September. Then Bellatrix started doing round trips from Little Hangleton to the Leaky Cauldron to bring Penelope's luggage. And after sending the owl back to McGonagall, it was Penelope who went to London. The last things she took with her from her room were her sleeping clothes, her cleaning supplies, her camouflaged Patronus blanket, and a shoebox bearing her Chocolate Frog cards.

Penelope was glad to be away from her father despite knowing he had eyes on her. Still, Bloodyle had to make sure Penelope was safe. Rather than buying all her supplies in one day, Bloodyle took her to Diagon Alley and they only did one shop per day. It had taken them almost a whole week of getting out of hiding just to get a majority of her books and robe fitting.

As Penelope put away her letter, Bloodyle came out of the bathroom in her human disguise. " _Let's go. We still need to get you a wand._ "

"I still don't understand why I need a wand even though I can project magic out of my hands," Penelope whispered as they got out to Diagon Alley.

" _If they see you've been performing magic before you even went to school and that it's Dark Arts, you won't be on the Hogwarts Express but in a cell in Azkaban!_ " Bloodyle said.

They finally arrived at Ollivander's, the wand shop. The moment they opened the door, Bloodyle shielded Penelope from the exploding vase.

"I see that wand won't work for you, Ms. Rosefinks," Ollivander, the old wizard running the shop, took the wand away from the eleven-year-old girl who had tried to use it. "I'm sure we'll eventually find the right one." He went back in his overloaded shelves of boxed wands.

" _Mr. Ollivander, my sister needs a wand_ ," Bloodyle asked in a hurried tone.

"Please wait!" Ollivander sounded stressed out. "I need to find a wand for Ms. Rosefinks!"

" _We can't wait! We must leave as soon as my sister gets a wand!_ "

"One customer at a time!"

"You know, Bloodyle, we can come back tomorrow on opening time…" Penelope tried to suggest.

"Mr. Ollivander, I don't mind waiting." The other girl said.

"I found it!" Ollivander ran in with a box and took out the box. "Here, Ms. Rosefinks. Unicorn hair, 10 inches, and made out of a peach blossom branch found only in Japan. Give it a twirl."

Rosefinks took a deep breath and twirled her wand. A pinkish red aura appeared as wispy doves flew around the young witches' mass of gingery blonde curls. "I did it!" She exclaimed.

"Phew! And all it took was twelve tries!" Ollivander sighed in relief. He turned to face his next client and widened his eyes when he saw Penelope. "My goodness… You're Riddle's daughter."

She cringed.

"How can something so innocent come from something so evil?" A pitiful sad expression appeared on Ollivander. "I think I have the right wand for you. I'll be right back."

He made his way to his stacks. The moment he disappeared, Rosefinks held out a friendly hand. "Hi! I'm Emily!" She told Penelope.

Bloodyle pulled Penelope away.

"Bloodyle, you're suffocating me!" Penelope complained.

" _I'm only doing my job! Wait a minute, where's my wallet?_ " Bloodyle let go of Penelope to scavenger her pockets. " _OK, Penelope, DO NOT leave this shop! I have to run to Gringotts to get some money!_ " To that, Bloodyle ran out the store.

"You're Penelope? That's a fun name!" Emily immediately shook hands with Penelope. The half-breed almost lost balance after the energetic handshake she received from Emily.

"Thanks…" Penelope's nostrils picked up the stench of Muggles on Emily. "Are you… a Muggle-born witch?"

"Yes." Emily twirled one of her gingery blonde curls with her finger as she bit her lip in awkwardness. "My parents work at the National Museum of Ireland in Dublin. I was helping them clean up the museum after closing hours when McGonagall came to us with my letter. After I unknowingly used magic to levitate the Ancient Greek vases, it took McGonagall an hour to convince my parents that I wouldn't be turned into some sort of Satan-worshipper. My parents are Catholics, you know?"

"I can relate to crazy parents," Penelope groaned.

Ollivander came out. He carried a wand outside of its box. The wand was 11 inches long, perfectly carved and polished. "Try this, my dear."

Penelope took a deep breath and grabbed the wand. The moment the wood met her hand, the candles lit off and the room fell into complete darkness. Ghostly whispers echoed around the store, like Dementors aiming for a kiss or ghosts failing to shout secrets. Penelope calmed down and the darkness disappeared.

"Wow! You made it work on the first go!" Emily said positively. She didn't seem affected by the fact that she had been standing in darkness for at least five minutes.

"Fascinating…" Ollivander whispered.

Penelope felt the texture of the wood. "I thought Hawthysteria wood was grown solely for the graves of wizards dead of despair."

"And yet, they make a good wand for those who have lived despairing lives. And the core… is unique."

"Ooh, how is it unique?" Emily asked curiously.

"Well, most wands have cores from unicorn hair, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings. The rarest wands, whoever, bear the rarest cores. The Elder Wand had a Thestral tail hair, Salazar Slytherin's had a basilisk fang… and the one I have given to Ms. Riddle bears a lost wing membrane from Nooroo."

"Nooroo?" Penelope asked.

"A creature of transmission. His capacities are to bring powers to others as a last hope. Unfortunately, he has been lost for a time now. This discarded membrane from his wing was found and preserved by a Nepalese merchant who sold it to me. I figured that for a wand made of despairing wood, I'd give it a core of last hope." He stared at Penelope, who was clearly a despaired soul running out of hope.

…

It was finally September 1st. Due to the overprotective issues, Bloodyle made sure that Penelope was settled in the Hogwarts Express just after it arrived at the Platform Nine and Three-Quarters… at 5am. The basilisks had placed Penelope's luggage in the compartment and gave her foster sister a constricting hug.

" _I'll have to leave you. The Dark Lord wants me to head to Scotland as soon as possible._ "

"Why don't you just ride with me?" Penelope asked.

" _What? How do you explain a basilisk in the Hogwarts Express? Look, I'll be at Hogwarts before you do. I'll be in the Chamber of Secrets, so if you need anything, call me._ "

Penelope groaned in exasperation. "I get to go away from home for a year, and he wants me to suffocate with you as my nanny?"

Bloodyle gave a pained expression.

"I'm sorry…" Penelope regretted what she had said.

" _I know._ " Bloodyle petted Penelope on the hair and made her way out of the train and King's Cross. For the next 5 hours, Penelope bored herself by watching the families gradually arriving to help their children get in the train. Occasionally, she looked through the compartment door window: parents gave her hateful look and hurried their children to the furthest compartments. Clearly, the tabloids got into their heads. When Penelope switched to the train window, she wanted to cry when she saw the parents hugging their children, promising to send them owls every day and looking forward to seeing them during the holiday. For some reason, the feeling of crying at the sight of families happier than her non-existent ones made Penelope angrier.

"Hi, Penelope!"

Penelope yelped. Emily Rosefinks was making her way into her compartment while a man and woman, clearly her Muggle parents, pulled in Emily's luggage.

"This is great! We get to sit together on the ride to Hogwarts!" Emily placed down a brown satchel with sewn patches of leprechauns, clovers, and horseshoes.

"Emily, remember that you are supposed to keep yourself together." Her father (and it was obvious Emily got her freckles from him) lifted the suitcases up to store them.

"And be careful with what you eat," her mother (who had passed on her hair color to her daughter) warned. "You don't know what these pagans put in their food."

"But Mum, some of the witches and wizards I met at Diagon Alley celebrate holidays like we do. I even met another Muggle-born first—year and he's Jewish!" Emily lost her smile when her parents gave her a unified groan of disapproval. Penelope had heard that if Muggles weren't killing off witches who might corrupt innocent souls to serve a non-existing devil, their next targets would obviously be those who didn't meet up their religious beliefs. Before he passed away, Alexis Yaga had often explained to Penelope the foundations of monotheist religions and why their differences often led to war. He was also Jewish, so there had been times when Penelope had snuck out of the Riddle Estate to join Alexis Yaga for his Hanukah and Passover celebrations.

"Here is a good amount of gur cakes for you to eat until you get to Hogwarts." Mrs. Rosefinks handed a basket full of the Irish pastries to Emily.

"Thank you, Mum."

"And make sure to write to us once a week and pray every night," her father warned. "I'll be hearing from the prefects if you haven't."

"Yes, Pup."

They gave her at least two minutes worth of hugging and left as well. The Hogwarts Express released some massive steam and finally set its course. As soon as the train made its way out of the city of London and into the countryside, Emily opened the window and tossed away the gur cakes.

Penelope gasped. "Didn't your mother bake those especially for you?"

"I've hated her gur cakes ever since I was five. The taste is more like her cat's litter than dried raisins!" Emily gagged. "She means well, but she has her suffocating moments."

Penelope grimaced. At least Emily had emotions to make out of her mother's treatment, whereas Penelope never even had the chance to meet Svjetla.

Halfway during the trip, Penelope decided to switch from the grey dress she had worn to the Hogwarts uniform. Seeing herself in her dark robes on the reflective window threw her off: for a moment, she remembered her father's disturbing robes that made him pass off as a shadow. What if she terrified the other students because they thought she looked evil?

"Here, my Mum taught me how to make French braids!" Before Penelope could get any say, Emily pushed her down on the seat and grabbed a comb. The Muggle-born went on to cautiously brush Penelope's hair, straightening the black and teal strokes, and tightening the roots as she weaved the hair into a perfect braid. Not a single hair was loose. When Penelope saw her reflection again, all she saw was a harmless girl.

"Wow…" She was stunned.

"Yeah, my mom went to finishing school. I hate having my hair braided, but I think it does work for you." Emily put her comb away. "Maybe once we're in our dorms, I can teach you the technique."

"I don't think we'll be in the same dorm," Penelope said matter-of-factly. And in her mind, she was right. Emily was nice and all, but there was no way she and Penelope could be sorted into the same house. Last time Penelope checked, her ancestor Salazar Slytherin despised Mudbloods.

…

"Emily Rosefinks."

Penelope watched as Emily climbed up the stool after Professor McGonagall called her name. Everyone in the Hogwarts Mess Hall observed as the teacher placed the Sorting Hat onto Emily's head.

" _I see… loyalty, kindness, and the need to make others proud of you. OH, parents you are ambitious to please despite your dreams. I guess I'll say… SLYTHERIN!_ "

Penelope's shocked expression wasn't the only one in the Mess Hall. Even the students at the Slytherin table were too stunned to respond as Emily received the grey-and-silver tie and McGonagall enchanted the Slytherin patch to stick onto Emily's robe.

 _How can this be possible_? Penelope thought as she watched Emily make her merry way to Slytherin, sitting down and being blissfully unaware that the other Slytherin students kept their distance from Emily at least by ten feet. _How can the Sorting Hat possibly let a Mudblood sit among the Slytherin?_ Then again, the Sorting Hat mentioned that Emily was ambitious to please others, especially her parents. _Is that why she was so nice to me and submissive to her parents until we left? She's that much of a doormat._

"Penelope Riddle."

The Mess Hall was dead quiet. Penelope felt the dead glares on her as she took her turn to the stool and McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on Penelope's head.

" _Oh my! You certainly aren't Daddy's little girl!_ " The Sorting Hat exclaimed. " _A brave sense of defiance, maybe Gryffindor. You do have some kindness, but is it enough for Hufflepuff? Your intelligence and creativity is unimaginable! You smell like someone who has created her own spells! Maybe you'd be better for Ravenclaw! Then again, your ambitious nature is fueled by your hatred and lost hope. I could sort you to spare your life, but if I did, then MY life will be over. SLYTHERIN!_ "

And just like that, out of cowardice, the Sorting Hat placed Penelope into Slytherin. She could already imagine Voldemort popping a champagne bottle in his castle right now while he and the Death Eaters did the conga line. McGonagall gave a sympathetic smile to Penelope as the woman's wand shot green-and-silver dust on Penelope's black tie, permanently staining it with the colors of Slytherin. Once the Slytherin badge was on her robe, Penelope went to sit down next to Emily. The other Slytherin students made sure to double their distance.

Emily looked like she wanted to walk up to the teachers' table and rip apart the Sorting Hat. "I can't believe that old rag valued its life over your needs!"

"It's fine," Penelope sighed. "I already figured I'd end up in this house before I even got accepted."

"No, it's not fine!" Emily shook her head. "We both got our values revealed in public! At least with me it makes sense! I'm desperate to prove myself, but if that hat just put you in Slytherin because if you had been sorted elsewhere, he'd be ripped!"

They completely ignored the speeches. Food appeared on all the tables, but because all the other Slytherin students were huddled like bees, there were no dishes near Penelope and Emily. Both underdogs decided they had no appetite despite not having had a single ounce of food all day. Nobody reacted when the girls left the Mess Hall and made their way to the Slytherin dorm room.

"This castle is huge!" Emily complained. "How will we find our dorm?"

"I think…" Penelope and Emily paused in their tracks. Two other students, probably third-years, were walking towards their direction. What threw them off was that one was a Slytherin girl and the other a Hufflepuff boy. And for some reason, the Hufflepuff boy reminded her of…

"Newt?" Penelope remembered the boy she had met when she was only a small child.

"Yes?" Newt paused and blinked in recognition. "Hey, it's you!" He smiled. "I can't believe how much you're here! I'd recognize those teal blue strands anywhere!"

Penelope smiled. Even though it had been several years, Penelope had never forgotten the young boy who, along with his family, displayed extreme kindness to Penelope when she had been accidentally stranded in London on her birthday.

"Hi, I'm Emily Rosefinks!" Emily shook hands with Newt. "Penelope and I just got sorted into Slytherin and we were looking for the dorms…"

"I think Leta can guide you. I promised Hagrid I'd meet up with him after my… errand…"

"Are you sure?" Leta asked.

"Don't worry, it's not like you're going to run into those Gryffindor idiots! I'll see you guys tomorrow!"

While Newt made his way, Leta directed the first-years to the Slytherin common room, which Penelope thought was basically Voldemort's living room but in a tackier green. Leta made herself scarce and got out of the dorm, leaving Penelope and Emily all by themselves. They climbed the staircase leading to the rooms, the stairs pulled themselves up, preventing Penelope and Emily from going to the girls' room. The bricks on the wall moved to create a doorway bearing a door with two green nameplates.

 **Penelope Riddle**

 **Emily Rosefinks**

"Please tell me this is a move-in joke!" Penelope whined.

"So first the magic food tables serve us nothing and now they're making us sleep away from the other girls?" Emily frowned at Penelope. "Do you have cholera or something?"

"No, I'm just the offspring of the Dark Lord," Penelope groaned. She opened the door leading to their room and eventually their expressions of utter shock. The room was big enough to host 8 students, but the two canopy beds were massive and crowned by beautiful green curtains with floral patterns. Emily couldn't resist jumping on her bed and laughing in glee. Penelope, on the other hand, was stunned to see that her Patronus blanket was perfectly laid out on her bed, and when she flipped it, the rag she had sewn on to hide the Patronus blanket from Voldemort had been replaced by a new, dark green sheet. Someone had adjusted her blanket… for her.

"Goodness, Penelope! Have you felt these beds? My own bed back home isn't this comfy!" Emily giggled until she saw Penelope reacting in an overwhelmed expression. The dark-and-teal haired girl went through every single cabinet belonging to her and her emotions went crazy just at the sights: her old clothes looked clean and brand new and were perfectly organized in her closet, she had her own bathroom with numerous towels, floral-scented soaps, and silvery combs, her school materials were perfectly organized on her desk, she had her own couch to relax by the window side, and the best part yet was when she found a chest bearing all of her secret presents.

"He was from Hogwarts…" Tears came out of Penelope's eyes.

"Are you alright?" Emily came to see what Penelope was crying about. Then she saw it. "Your father hates you?"

Penelope nodded. She couldn't resist and went on to tell her whole story to Emily, especially on the parts about Voldemort's abuse, the mysterious wizard who cared about Penelope's well-being from the shadows, and her other misfortunes.

"I'm so sorry…" Emily was just as upset when Penelope finished her story. "I thought you were shy, but this is worse…"

"And why I was mean to you." Penelope closed her present chest. "I mean, you're so friendly to me, and I was afraid that if I got close to you, I'd be responsible for your death…"

"Hey, it's OK." Emily patted her on the shoulder. "I get it, you're afraid. But you know what? You don't need to worry about me. I need to worry about you. You need a friend, Penny."

Penelope couldn't resist laughing. "OK, but don't call me Penny!"

" _Sure_." Emily snickered. Just then, envelopes appeared before them. "Oh, it's our schedules!"

They opened their envelopes and pulled out their schedules to have a look at them. "We have most of our classes together at the same time! Well, except History of Magic and Charms. Oh, look! We also have study hall on Wednesdays and Tuesdays at the same time."

"We don't have Defense Against the Dark Arts together," Penelope said.

"What do you mean?" Emily rechecked the time of that class. "Fridays from 1pm to 3:45pm."

"But not the same teacher." Penelope frowned. "I'm getting my Defense Against the Dark Arts class on Friday… with Headmaster Albus Dumbledore in his office."

"Maybe he's a second teacher for the subject?"

"Or he thinks I need special schooling because I was raised among dark wizards."

...

Since September 1st was a Friday, Penelope had the whole weekend to herself. She and Emily oriented around the castle, figuring out the best shortcuts to their classes. Passing by the phoenix statue, the entrance to Dumbledore's office, dread filled Penelope.

The first week of classes was a mixture of average to terrible. She did her best to stay discreet in class, keeping her eyes wide on the professors' lessons and biting her lips to shut up when they asked questions that she knew the answer but shouldn't tell, otherwise she might as well let it slip that she had studied magic before even going to school, which was forbidden. It was a good thing that most of the professors tended to ignore her.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout were the only two teachers who showed sympathy and appreciation to Penelope in their classes. McGonagall was stunned when she saw Penelope's fixing spells to turn broken objects into repaired and brand new antiquities, and animals into perfectly detailed dishes. Sprout was impressed with Penelope's skills in Herbology and her gardening hobby.

The Potions teacher, Snape, on the other hand, gave only contempt to her. She could understand. Voldemort had warned her that his most trusted confident (whom he only spoke to away from Crouch and Bellatrix) would keep an eye on her since he would be her 'public' teacher. Penelope also knew that while Voldemort trusted him, Bellatrix and Crouch didn't. Considering that Penelope hardly interacted with him back home, she'd imagine that Snape was instructed to give her a hard time as both her schoolteacher and her House Head. She didn't even bother answering his 'questions that he never wanted answered', so she'd write down her answers on a piece of paper, pass it to Emily, and let her friend answer Snape.

And socially, things were a nightmare. It seemed like every single Hogwarts student decided to have a tooth against her just for being Voldemort's child: the Gryffindor kids would throw rocks at her, the Ravenclaw became extreme tattle-tellers for anything she might do wrong (they'd even tattle on her when she was doing her homework and they thought she was writing dark spells), the Hufflepuff contended themselves with merely ignoring her and spreading gossip they heard about her father on the tabloids, and Slytherin… You'd think that the dream house of purebloods and dark wizards would at least _venerate her_ due to being the Dark Lord's child, but they kept their distance from her as if she were the living incarnation of the Black Plague. Every night, when coming back from classes, Penelope and Emily would find their door vandalized with graffiti, caricatures, and insults.

It was Friday. They already had lunch and thirty-minutes ahead of time. Penelope stared at the phoenix statue, dreading what would await her.

Emily squeezed her hand. "Good thing Mum sent me that herbal tea," she said. "I can heat up some for us when it's teatime."

"I'll need it," Penelope groaned.

"It's only the headmaster," Emily tried to reassure her. "If he thought you were a hopeless case, he wouldn't have let you come at Hogwarts."

"I guess."

Penelope took a deep breath and stepped in front of the phoenix statue. It then began to turn, making a circular staircase come up from the ground. Emily gave her friend an encouraging thumbs-up before the latter finally went up the stairs. Penelope's heartbeat accelerated as she got closer to the door, expecting some sort of trap infested office and Dumbledore ready to torture her.

What she saw was the opposite of what she was used to back home: a very organized and bright office with cabinets holding artifacts, a warm fire in the chimney, a nice desk, portraits of the previous headmasters in polished frames, and a phoenix flying around the room. It landed on the shoulder of the headmaster. Albus Dumbledore, in her perspective, looked much younger than her father, perhaps like a man in his late thirties to early forties. Then again, considering that wizards lived longer than Muggles and Voldemort was pretty much a monster, Penelope guessed that Dumbledore was older than he looked.

"You're early," he remarked. "Most people who dislike me arrive late." He turned to look at her, confusing Penelope with his smile. "You purposely skipped dessert just to make it to my office on time, and ironically, I was just placing dessert on the coffee table." He moved out of the way to show the coffee table bearing a chocolate mousse cake, glasses of pumpkin juice, and bowls of strawberry pudding decorated by cherries. The whole sight made Penelope's mouth water, but she struggled to resist.

"Is this a test?" She asked. "Am I supposed to detect which food is poisonous?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "None. But at least you learned a lesson in Defense Against Strangers: be suspicious of strangers giving you free dessert. You must admit, I'd be doing a terrible job as headmaster if I wanted to poison students."

A giggle escaped Penelope after hearing Dumbledore's joke. "You're sure it's OK if I…"

"I insist."

Penelope made her timid way to the nearest chair while Dumbledore sat on the one facing her. He handed her a glass of pumpkin, and against all forms of etiquette, she rapidly drank the pumpkin juice. It was still warm and steaming, which probably meant that Dumbledore had just finished heating it. Once the liquid went down her throat, Penelope realized that the pumpkin juice had a flavor she was already familiar with…

"This pinch of ginger and lemon…" Her eyes widened at Dumbledore. "It was you, wasn't it? The one who had been leaving me gifts on rare occasions for years… And who fixed my Patronus blanket and teleported all your past gifts into my dorm room?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"So… you didn't decide to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts to me in private because you thought I was dangerous," she concluded.

"You aren't dangerous, Penelope." Dumbledore shook his head. "You're the child of a dangerous man, true, but that doesn't necessarily mean you are."

"But…"

"I can imagine you have a lot of questions, but most of them need more time to be answered. What I can answer to you for the moment is that I wanted to teach you this particular course in private because having spent your life in fear, the last thing you need is to be in a class of twenty students and be their subject of fear. I'm hoping to get you out of the fear you've been living in."

Penelope's stomach turned into a knot, but this was probably because she ate too much of the chocolate mousse cake. She clearly had too many questions, but one still stuck out the most.

Why didn't Dumbledore take her away from Voldemort if he worried for her?"

…

"Why didn't you ask him?" Emily asked.

It was now Halloween. The semester was going rapidly. For the moment, classes were fair and the social issues still continued. Honestly, outside of spending time with Emily, Penelope began to find more solace in her private classes with Dumbledore. He still didn't answer all the questions she had outside defensive spells and dark creatures, but there was something about him that just made Penelope feel… safe.

"What would you like me to do?" Penelope shrugged. "Beg him to adopt me? Duel my father until he becomes nothing but a pile of ash? Use his power as headmaster to make sure everyone likes me?"

"Wow, you're nothing like the Muggle girls I used to go to school with," she whistled. "Any of them who was friendly with the headmistress could get away with murder… one of them literally did."

"Look, he's one of the few people who's displayed actual kindness to me for reasons outside of the Dark Lord bullying them or because they were paid to do so. I also hope he doesn't become one of those friends I had who are now dead."

The girls finally made it to the forbidden girls bathroom. Penelope had managed to sneak into the castle kitchens during a Quidditch game to make a cake for Bloodyle. She still couldn't believe that Dumbledore gladly gave her his chocolate mousse cake recipe.

"Well, well," Moaning Myrtle, the bathroom's ghost snarked when she saw the girls coming in. "I see you bring a cake. What are you going to do, throw it at me?"

"It's for Bloodyle. Is she here with you?" Penelope asked.

Just in time, a toilet flushed. " _I'm here!_ " Bloodyle called.

"Happy birthday!" Emily declared. "Penelope made you a cake!"

"Complete with frosting that looks like a bleeding jack-o-lantern," Moaning Myrtle remarked.

" _Can you pass it underneath the door?_ " Bloodyle asked. Penelope knelt down, put a fork next to the cake, and gently pushed the treat underneath the cabinet's door. Bloodyle picked it up and could be heard eating. " _YUM! This is delicious!_ "

"I know, right?" Emily smiled. "Dumbledore gave her the recipe."

"About Dumbledore… Bloodyle, have you ever seen him trying to break into the Riddle Estate?" Penelope's question made Bloodyle choke on her cake slice.

"Why would Dumbledore break into the Dark Lord's castle?" Moaning Myrtle asked.

"He admitted to her that he was the one who snuck in all the fancy presents without You-Know-Who knowing," Emily explained. "And Penelope still won't ask him why he didn't just take her with him."

" _Of course he couldn't_." Bloodyle said from the other side. " _With the magical link bounding the Riddle father and daughter, Dumbledore couldn't just spirit her away. Imagine if the Dark Lord used his link with her to find out where Dumbledore lives outside of Hogwarts or where his supporters are. Imagine the guilt you'd feel, Penelope, if the Dark Lord killed Dumbledore all because you're a walking tracker._ "

"I guess I haven't thought of it this way…" Penelope sighed.

" _Oh! There was some wizard who did pay my parents an unexpected visit… a time after I had to save you from the Aurors when you were still a baby… He just came to bless you in his crib…_ "

"I hear footsteps!" Moaning Myrtle said in a singsong tune.

"We'll take more about it later, Bloodyle, or else they'll find the entrance to the chamber! I'll see you before Christmas!" Penelope said.

She and Emily rushed out of the forbidden bathroom. They took a left turn on the next corridor and froze. The ground was stained by a trail of footprints soaked in blood. Hagrid the groundskeeper and Newt were observing the trail.

"OK, I've heard of Halloween tricks, but this is a whole new level," Emily said.

"Probably another Gryffindor playing smart." Penelope shrugged.

"I'm afraid it ain't a funny matter," Hagrid shook his head. "These are the footsteps of a bloody imp."

"An injured one," Newt pointed at the floor. "See how there's a line? The imp must have injured its foot and dragged it."

"It looks like its heading towards the Mess Hall. Come on, Newt. As for you, lassies, go straight back to your rooms." Hagrid and Newt took the direction the footprints were heading. The girls, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice that the footprints coming from the opposite direction were bloodier than the others.

"I think the imp might have retraced her steps," Penelope knelt down to have a closer look. She poked her finger on a blood drop and licked it. "It has the same foul taste and smell as imp blood, but it's just pig's blood coated to pass off as imp's blood. I recognize the fat."

"And how do you know the imp is female?" Emily asked.

"Female imps are a whole lot smarter than the males. We have our shares of imps trying to sneak their way into the Riddle Estate and my father hates it whenever they escape him. Usually the females make sure they run before the males. Once, a female imp was chased by Death Eaters in the estate garden. They used Nagini's sense of smell to track her down, but then had stolen some of the flowers from my garden and used it to camouflage her scent. She also went on to splash the Death Eaters and Nagini with a lake's worth of perfume. Nagini had to be nursed for weeks until her tongue could function again."

Emily shuddered.

"If an imp wandering a school full of wizards wanted to throw them off by faking an injury, the male would just walk on bloody stilts. The female, however, would paint her foot in blood, create a trail for the wizards to follow, and temporarily hide until she could walk backwards from where she came from."

The temptation was too much and the girls walked towards the footprints' origins. The further they went, the bloodier it got. Soon, it became clear to the girls that the bloody feet had originated from the deep parts of the castles.

"Holy cow!" Emily freaked when she saw the rest of the blood trail. "It came from the Slytherin dorm!"

Penelope was the first one to step in the common room. Bloody footprints stained every floor tile and every couch's fabric, so the imp might as well have created a bloody pool. The most disturbing, however, was when the girls saw a bubble of blood floating five feet off the ground, making blood cascade down the steps to continue flooding the common room.

"Penelope, please tell me you were joking about the psychotic imp and that this is your idea of a Halloween prank!" Emily shook Penelope. "I don't find this funny!"

They felt something push them into the blood pool. Suddenly, Penelope choked and spit blood. Only the blood that she spit wasn't from the pool but from her mouth. She began to see the room distorting and her legs gave in as she couldn't stand up.

"E… E… Em… Em…"

Why couldn't she call out for her friend? And where was Emily? For some reason, everything was distorting and oozing, like the way a painter's brush forces different colors to collide and form into a chaotic one. Penelope's breathing got difficult by the minute, and now she could have sworn she was seeing Death Eaters and basilisks swarm through the entrance, joining Dumbledore as he tackled Grindelwald.

"H… He…" Penelope couldn't scream for help. She fainted in the blood.

…

" _It's been three days now! When will she wake up?"_

" _Easy, Emily. They said it would take a while for her to recover after her hallucinations…"_

" _Kinda easy for you to say that, Scamander. You weren't the one forced to take a bloody bath."_

Penelope blinked her eyes open.

"Emily…" She finally groaned. "I had a crazy dream. Death Eaters invaded the Slytherin common room, I took a bloody bath, and Dumbledore was wrestling Grindelwald… How weird is that, right?"

"Uh, minus the weirder stuff, that wasn't a dream."

Penelope sat upright, expecting the Death Eaters to surround her. To her surprise, she was actually in a bed at the Hogwarts' infirmary. She checked her breath, and to her relief, it was proper.

"What happened?" She asked.

"I was coming out of detention with Snape when we heard Emily screaming. We saw her trying to shoot the Levitation Spell on the imp…" The boy who had spoken and criticized Newt earlier was a second-year Slytherin with cropped auburn hair and grass green eyes. Penelope blinked at him in confusion as he continued talking. "The imp was awfully tricking. Thank goodness Snape managed to get the other teachers and Dumbledore to rush over, but she made a run for it by jumping out the window."

"Hagrid brought you to the hospital and had me help Professor Sprout in extracting the mandrake sap out of you," Newt joined in.

"Oh. My allergies…" Penelope felt stupid.

"I'm glad you're awake, but I gotta go. Quidditch game coming up." The Slytherin boy made his way out of the infirmary.

"Who the heck is he again?" Emily again.

"Mandire Sulliver," Newt shrugged. "Beater of your house."

"Emily, what happened while I was out?" Penelope grabbed the cup of water that sat on her nightstand.

"Well, the imp tried to make a grab on you until the teachers showed up. While Sprout treated you, Dumbledore asked me to describe the imp. He told everyone that mishaps like this often happen at Halloween, but he claimed the imp was seen in the astrology tower."

"Why would he lie?" Penelope asked.

"Penelope, the imp _got_ into the Slytherin House," Newt pointed out. "Only Slytherin members can come in and out of it. How do you explain an imp breaking in unless she was related to Slytherin?"

Penelope wasn't sure what to say, but then she remembered the hallucination she had on Halloween. If it turned out, what she thought was a swarm of Voldemort's servants was actually Dumbledore and the teachers breaking in. And when she saw Dumbledore and Grindelwald wrestling, it was actually Emily keeping the imp away from Penelope as her mandrake allergy left her vulnerable. She could understand the hallucination of Death Eaters and the basilisks attacking Grindelwald due to Voldemort's issue with the latter, but why did she see Dumbledore attacking Grindelwald? Was it a reference?

Or worse, was it a way to say that if the imp represented Grindelwald, Grindelwald had sent the imp to attack Penelope?


	8. The First Year, Part 2

Chapter 8: The First Year, Part 2

No one really spoke of the imp incident as the weeks went on. Though Emily had managed to gain 20 points for Slytherin for managing to keep the imp down, the other students were unnerved at the idea that an assassin might have managed to get in just to attack the Dark Lord's offspring. Many suggested it was a lackey of Grindelwald's. Despite the general opinions, Dumbledore had the teachers keep an eye on Penelope for any school activity she was involved with. They began to give detention to the Gryffindor and Slytherin students for their bullying and having Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw lose points if they continued their pointless tattle-telling and rumor spreading. This just made Penelope feel even less comfortable as her classmates now gave her dark glares, probably the silent way of asking why the faculty was smothering a beast like her?

Leta Lestrange and Mandire Sulliver were the only other Slytherin students besides Emily who tried to give Penelope a break. Leta would always try to make Penelope feel better with stories of how her own childhood stank, slightly giving Penelope relief that Leta was nothing like her distant cousin Bellatrix. Mandire did an effort in cleaning Penelope's door and cover the graffiti with a green paint enchanted to hex anyone who tried to vandalize again.

It was finally December. Snow came pouring in, covering the Scottish fields in a white blanket of snow. Penelope would let Emily drag her outside the castle to go sledding on a makeshift sled. They'd amuse themselves by feeling their hearts race as their sled dragged them down a hill. Hagrid would often catch them landing in a pile of snow near his hut, laugh about it, and let them in to taste his homemade cider.

Penelope also ended up finding some joy at spending time at Hagrid's once she found out he was a half-breed like her. She also found out that Newt spent a majority of his spare time with Hagrid due to their common interests in magical creatures. Honestly, Leta even told Penelope that Newt spent more time taking care of creatures with Hagrid and writing down facts about them in his schoolbooks than he did in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

At the same time, the Muggle-born students at Hogwarts were getting agitated. Their parents would have owls send them the Muggle newspapers and it seemed that things were getting agitated in the Muggle world.

"Pup keeps saying that a conflict might be inevitable," Emily said. They were in their dorm and she was showing Penelope a recent newspaper her mother sent her. Apparently, rumors were going on about how some Joseph Stalin was yet again sent into exile. "With the stuff happening with Italy and the Ottoman Empire, many neighbors think there might be a war."

"And Stalin?"

"Rise in socialism." Emily looked at the newspaper again. "It's a mess these days. Ever since the United States and France started revolutions to break out of monarchies and form independent democracies, other European monarchies have been losing territories. Who knows how long it will take for political parties to tear each other apart? Or monarchies breaking apart? I dread to imagine what would happen if Europe starts another war and powerful countries end up falling apart from the inside."

"Wars in the wizarding world can be far more devastating." Penelope took the newspaper and rolled it up. "Unlike Muggles, any witch or wizard can have access to something dangerous. Anyone could lift their wand and shout the Killing Curse. It just depends on which sides they're on."

"And I'm guessing that's why you chose to spend the Christmas break here than at home." Emily shrugged.

Just then, somebody knocked on the door.

"I'll check." Penelope groaned and got out of bed. "Petrify me if it's another Slytherin nailing an insult." She opened the door and found Leta standing in front of her with a big library book at hand. "What happened? Did Snape decide to punish you by having you read me a bedtime story to kill me? Because I know he and your cousin Bellatrix don't like each other."

"No, he already took five points after I provoked a Gryffindor girl and I already got detention last week by cleaning the Owlery." Leta shuddered at the idea of cleaning up a tower infested by owls. "May I come in?"

Penelope shrugged and let Leta in.

"Ever since the Halloween accident, I've been freaking out about the imp, so I found this book at the library." She placed the brown leathered book on Penelope's bed. The golden title was TIMELINE OF IMPS and surrounded by a straw pattern. "It's basically a book about imps recorded throughout history. They update it every year whenever an imp has been confirmed to be up to no good."

"What edition is this?" Penelope asked.

"The 1866 version, unfortunately. Hogwarts hasn't been able to get the latest yet. But I figured that maybe Emily might be able to recognize the imp that attacked. Watch this." Leta tapped her wand on the book cover. " _Mark for me Britain._ "

Forty-nine bookmarks of different brown coloring slipped out of the pages. Leta opened the book and showed the pages that had been marked. "It helps shorten your search, you know. Maybe Emily could recognize the imp and maybe depending on the background, we'd know why the imp attacked."

"Leta, you're a genius!" Once Leta closed the book, Emily tapped her wand on the book cover. " _Mark for me a female._ "

2552 bookmarks.

" _Mark for me a female imp with a human appearance._ "

944 bookmarks.

" _Mark for me a female imp with a human appearance, brown hair and brown eyes."_

333 bookmarks.

"Ugh…" Then Emily found a shortcut. " _Mark for me a female imp with a human appearance, brown hair and eyes, and who can step inside Slytherin's House._ "

Only one dirty brown bookmark appeared. Leta and Penelope looked over Emily's shoulders as she opened up to the marked page. It revealed two page illustrations of a basic devious and old male imp accompanied by an imp who looked like a stunning young human girl.

"That's her!" Emily recognized the girl in the picture. "But… who's the male imp?"

"Rumplestiltskin." Penelope grimaced. "He has the same face even after a thousand years. My father had a bad encounter with him. He always said that if it weren't for Muggles, he would have just oppressed the imps."

"You mean the imp who spins straw into gold? I thought he was just some fairytale. My mum read it to me once. She said it was a way to teach children that dealing with the devil will cost you."

"And it did," Leta said grimly. "The real story is worse than the fairytale Muggles tell you."

"What happened?"

"You know the part where Muggles told you 'the miller's daughter had three days to guess his name to keep her firstborn, and when she did, the Earth swallowed him'? Well… that never happened."

Emily's eyes widened. "You mean…" She looked back at the page. "Are you saying the imp from Halloween… was _the firstborn_ of the miller's daughter? And the queen lost Rumplestiltskin's game?"

"There never was a game," Penelope said. "She didn't like it, but she had made the promise to pay her part. Still, giving up her infant would mean the kingdom discovering her lies. So a pureblood witch helped her in discovering that she was to expect _twins…_ "

"Long story short, the witch helped the queen give birth to the girl first. That way, it helped both parties." Leta shrugged. "Rumplestiltskin got the firstborn he wanted and the Queen got to keep the second baby, a boy, as her heir."

"And he transferred some of his blood to her. In a way, she's a half-breed… like me." Penelope looked at the picture. "They say he named her Amanda."

"How barbaric!" Emily choked.

"Tell me about it!" Penelope rolled her eyes. "Amanda was actually #13 on my father's list of names before I was born."

"Not that!" Emily shook her head. "I mean, this story is barbaric! And why do you both act like willingly ridding yourself of a baby is a common deed?"

"It's the wizarding world, Emily," Leta closed the book. "Something bad happens to everyone faster than it takes purebloods to call you a Mudblood."

"Reminder, I live with the Dark Lord." Penelope raised her hand. "And her side of the already crazy-Lestrange family are complete sexists."

"I guess you make a point…" Emily sighed. "Still, what was Rumplestiltskin's ward doing here? Do you think she changed herself to pass off as one of our classmates?"

"With the lousy password we have?" Penelope remarked. "She'd have to already know what it was and that password never changes." She paused. "Chances are, she might have been a Slytherin."

…

Penelope wondered why Dumbledore summoned her to his office on Christmas Eve. Besides making snowmen versions of all the Hogwarts teachers with Emily and later pelting with icy balls the snowmen versions of the Death Eaters, the worst thing she did so far during the Christmas break accidentally scaring a flying owl into pooping on a Gryffindor student.

The scent of pine branches got her attention the higher she got to the office. When she got there, she saw that Dumbledore had decorated his office with a Christmas tree, the portraits on the walls looked like they were partying, and packages wrapped in phoenix-themed papers rested underneath the tree. It looked like Dumbledore had enlarged his coffee table to fill in twenty different dishes.

"Can't be…"

"Happy Christmas, Penelope." Dumbledore came from behind the curtains. Fawkes had shinier feathers, which could mean he recently reincarnated from his ashes.

"You mean…" Penelope choked. "Did you…" She looked back at the packages resting underneath the tree.

"Yes, Penelope." Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Every single present is for you. This Christmas dinner is just for you."

Most children would jump on their feet at finding out that their families made a majority of the presents underneath the tree just for the children. Sure, it seemed like a way to spoil children, but with someone like Penelope, who never got such an ounce of attention from Voldemort nor did the Death Eaters and basilisks give her such attention on giving holidays, she could only do one thing.

She sobbed. The tears that fell down her cheek and hit the floor turned into specks of ice.

"What's the matter?" Dumbledore looked worried. "I thought you would like it."

"I like it and that's the problem!" Penelope cried. "I know you've already done this to me before, but I still can't believe you went through all this effort!"

Her sobbing weakened her knees and Dumbledore had to catch her before she could fall on the floor. His warm hold just worsened her crying. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he reassured her.

"I know," Penelope sniffed.

"Maybe eat something. It might cheer you up."

He helped her sit down, giving her a chance to attack the fancy dishes with her emotional stomach. He was right, for it did cheer her up. The fruitcake was as good as the ones from her childhood, the hot chocolate made from melted Chocolate Frogs was tantalizing, and she almost had a stomach ache after eating some Peppermint Serpentine Sweets. As her stomach digested the food she had consumed, Dumbledore went on to give her the presents. Penelope let her heart do all the crying as she unpacked the coats, the books, the drawing kit, a book on advanced magical gardening, and an enchanted music box. Her blue eyes gleamed in wonder at the music box that could change its appearance depending on her preferences. She amused herself by seeing it turn into a phoenix ballerina, a mermaid swimming, or Aconite harassing a wizard.

And the best part of all those presents? Dumbledore had enchanted all of them so that no one other than Penelope could curse nor claim nor destroy them.

"I really enjoy these gifts…"

"But?"

Penelope looked away from her music box and at Dumbledore. "I still don't understand why you're doing all this for me… I mean, why put so much trouble for me? You say I'm not dangerous…"

"I'm not pampering you as a way to convince you to do better in our lessons." Dumbledore chuckled as if what Penelope had said was a joke, but Penelope did see a pained expression in his smile. Sure, he was a good teacher and expressed worriedness for Penelope during her bad childhood, but now she was seeing by his expression that he wasn't pampering her because she was some abused child to be pitied.

"Are you worried that I might end up like my father not because I'm his child, but because his sick childhood led to what he is?" She guessed. "Did you try to be there for him when he was at Hogwarts too?"

Dumbledore sighed and put down his cup of tea. "There was a time when I wasn't the wizard I am right now. I tried to be there for Tom Riddle when he came to Hogwarts, but apathy was already in him, he'd let no one become a crutch to him. And…" His expression worsened in guilt. "If I hadn't had such blind faith in Grindelwald when we were younger, my sister would still be alive."

If anyone else had been sitting there, their first instinct would be to accuse Dumbledore of lying and conspiring with a dark wizard. Or worse, confining him to the hospital because he seemed to have an interest in dark wizards. But rather than being apathetic or ignorant like most other wizards, Penelope looked at Dumbledore with sympathy.

"What was her name?" She asked.

Dumbledore bit his lip. "Her name was of Greek origins, very much like yours. And very much like her namesake, I didn't give her the attention she needed. And very much like you, things worsened for her because of what her father did."

Penelope thought about the times when the basilisk mother tried to cheer her up by telling her Greek myths. She even told her the one about the Muggle queen who tricked her suitors with an unfinished tapestry. _The master is trying to have you change based on the plans he has weaved out for you_. That was the basilisk mother's reason for the Dark Lord calling her Penelope. Then she remembered the myth of the Labyrinth…

"Was it Ariana?"

And Penelope was one of the rare people who got to see Dumbledore shed a tear. "I can't believe I'm asking this, Professor, but may I give you a hug?"

He certainly didn't refuse.

…

As winter disappeared, spring came along. Penelope had already begun to study for the final exams. Classes were getting as quiet as usual. Since the weather was getting warm and the grass greener, Penelope did spend some time sneaking with Newt to check on the wild creatures living around Hogwarts. He was pretty ecstatic when he discovered a lonely tree inhabited by Bowtruckles, greenish stick creatures that lived in trees, on a small isle in the Black Lake.

"Did you know that Bowtruckles are primarily guardians of trees used for wands?" It was a cloudy Tuesday afternoon when he and Penelope were on the isle. He was feeding a dozen of baby Bowtruckles sprouting from the trees roots while Penelope sketched them on a paper pad.

"I did not know that," Penelope said. "My wand is made from a Hawthysteria. You know, those trees they grow at St Punica? I have to check the one I planted in my private garden back home. Maybe there might be some of those little guys living there."

"If you were able to summon your grandmother's ghost in your garden by using a branch from her tree in the cemetery and planting it in your garden, why don't you do the same at Hogwarts?"

"No way. The other ghosts might rat out on her. If I started bringing around the ghost of the Dark Lord's grandmother, then Dumbledore will be getting letters from the parents claiming that I'm doing dark magic. Or worse, Emily's mother will accuse me of venerating Satan. I'll be hunted by Muggle exorcists."

Newt helped tuck in the tired baby Bowtruckles under a bed of moss and made sure the older ones were doing well. When he and Penelope noticed the winds starting to blow, they figured it would be safer to start going back. He and Penelope climbed on the rowboat and made their way back through the dark waters.

"This is rather disturbing on how the season is unusually calm," Penelope pointed out. "I expected weird to happen."

"You still can't get over the imp accident, can you?" Newt guessed.

"No, Newt. Why would I be relaxed knowing the foster daughter of Rumplestiltskin managed to break into Slytherin for the sake of attacking me? Or knowing that Dumbledore used to have… something with Grindelwald?"

"Well you said it yourself. He gave up on Grindelwald and he recognized his mistake." Newt continued rowing. "If he didn't, Grindelwald would have snatched you by now."

Penelope nodded. Newt had a point.

"Not to mention that there's no proof the imp broke in your dormitory. Hogwarts doesn't shy away from non-human students. Hagrid used to be a student before expulsion."

Penelope lifted her head in surprise. "Are you suggesting that Amanda von Stiltskin was in Slytherin?"

"She was raised by an ambitious trickster after all."

"You might have a point. I should check out the old Slytherin student records…"

Their rowboat shook violently. Knowing she couldn't swim, Penelope held on for dear life. The shaking then stopped and Newt had a look. The water was agitating, yet there was no sign of a wind provoking it. Suddenly, water impaled through the wood like a geyser, quickly filling the boat with water.

"What's going on?" Newt shouted.

"I want to get off! I want to get off!" Penelope cried. "I can't swim!"

" _Aqua Eructo!_ " Newt used his wand to project water from his wand. His spell caused the boat to speed up and crash on the main land. Penelope and Newt didn't get the chance to rest though, as the ground began to shake, crack, and open up. "We must go!" Newt pulled Penelope up and the two made a run for it. The horrible noises kept getting louder, giving the two students the dread of being consumed by the Earth. Still, they continued in their running, and by the time they reached the area of Hagrid's hut, the rumbling had ceased.

"And I thought Broomstick Flying would make one's energy explode!" Newt gasped for air.

"Ugh! I bet it was that imp!" Penelope collapsed on the floor. "She first tried to drown me in blood spiked in mandrake, and now she almost had us drowned in the Black Lake or engulfed by the Earth!"

"You know it could have been another sort of magical creature, right?" Newt sat down next to her. "After all, the Black Lake is a known home for marine life. I almost spotted a mermaid when I was in my second-year."

"Newt, that imp Amanda knew my mandrake allergy is monstrous! I'm certain that she was aware that I couldn't swim!"

"What the blimey happened here?" Hagrid had stepped out of his hut, followed by Mandire carrying a jar full of agitated beetles. The Black Lake incident had left a series of cracks in the ground, each of them spreading water in. What seemed to unnerve Hagrid and Mandire the most was that the watery cracks had made their way from the Black Lake's beaches to the end of the hill. They could see it just well from where the hut was above.

"What happened, Newt?" Hagrid looked at Newt while the boy was getting up.

"Something struck our rowboat on our way back. When we barely reached the shore, the ground opened up," Newt explained.

"Phew! I thought it would be worse!" Mandire sighed in relief.

"Worse?" Penelope got up and dusted herself. "This is the second attempt on my life ever since my first-year started! I'm very certain that imp freak of Rumplestiltskin's daughter tried to drown me, and you say things could be worse?"

"Yes. Anyone could have been tormented by an outdoor spirit who doesn't belong among Hogwarts' ghosts." Mandire held up his jar of beetles. "I spotted an off-ground ghost pranking my Quidditch teammates. He seemed to have a fondness for bugs, so I went to see Hagrid."

"The garden's been invaded by Egyptian beetles." Hagrid shuddered. "I don't know if they were pests that snuck their way out from Professor Sprout's green rooms, but I had to do away with them before they did away with my vegetables."

"Why didn't you tell Dumbledore about the off-limits ghost, Sullivan?" Newt glared at Mandire with suspicion.

"Because unlike what you think, Scamander, I have my own fascinations in magical creatures." Mandire arched an eyebrow. "I'm not your typical Slytherin who'd go rat to Snape or McGonagall that an unauthorized ghost has been pranking my team on a level above Peeves just because I feel like I'm above myself."

"Let me guess. You want to bribe the ghost with beetles so you can throw the Ravenclaw team off their broomstick at your next game?"

Penelope never really understood what was wrong with boys finding the need to constantly find opportunities to be suspicious about the other. She rolled her eyes and went to pull Hagrid's sleeve to gain his attention.

"What do ya need, Penny?"

"Please don't call me that." Penelope knew that he called her that out of affection, but she disdained the nickname. "Hagrid, can I ask you something?"

"Sure thing. Let's talk about it while we bring this up to Professor Sprout. I think the boys will take all night." He held his jar full of Egyptian beetles and used a glance to indicate the ongoing bickering between Newt and Mandire. Penelope briefly chuckled and joined Hagrid.

"So what's on your mind?" He asked as they climbed up the stone stairs.

"Hagrid, have you ever heard of someone called Amanda Von Stiltskin?"

"Rumplestiltskin's bastard? Who hasn't?" Hagrid grumbled. "She gave half-breeds like you and me a bad reputation. Used to be a student Hogwarts student."

"I figured that. How else would she be able to enter Slytherin House?" At least that saved Penelope time from exploring the school records. "Were you two classmates?"

"Heavens, no! Von Stiltskin was a student at Hogwarts at least a decade before I was expelled myself! Don't be fooled by those tricksters, their appearances hide their age of trickery. But no, I never met her in person, but in my school years, everyone knew about her. She was sorted into Slytherin and proved herself unusually fickle. She tricked many students and teachers into deals, nobody could prove against her for driving them broke…"

"She tricked them out of their money? I thought she and Rumplestiltskin spun straw into gold."

"No, Penny. 'Driving someone broke' means 'driving someone crazy until they have no dignity left.'"

"Oh."

"Despite her deeds, she managed to pass her exams and graduate from Hogwarts. Even went to a graduate program in Durmstrang. Hogwarts has been skeptical about enrolling imps as students ever since."

"I see."

"Why all the questions?"

Penelope gave him a mere shrug.

"This doesn't have anything to do with the attack on Halloween, does it?" Hagrid's crossed question was met by another shrug on Penelope's part. He stopped just before they reached the door to the greenhouse and gestured Penelope to pay attention. "Mark my words, Penny. Worse troubles will follow you if you go after that bloody imp, so don't come up with any funny business."

"I'm the Dark Lord's daughter," Penelope said flatly. "I don't know funny business."

…

The final exams felt like a breeze for Penelope. With the intense studying and what she had learned during her childhood before entering Hogwarts, not a single question was answered incorrectly. It's not very often that you find a first-year student who got grades beyond the best kind, and that's saying something considering that we were still in the early 20th century. The Head of Ravenclaw was particularly angry that none of his students were as good as Penelope.

And Dumbledore had decided to spoil Penelope for her paid-off hard work in their private classes.

"Dinner at a pub in Hogsmeade?" Emily was looking through a Muggle newspaper while she and Penelope relaxed in a cozy patch of grass. With the pine trees surrounding it, the castle was out of sight.

"He says they make the best butterbeer." Penelope licked her lips. "What's going on with the Muggles? Last time there was a frantic with the other Muggle-borns, it was about the Titanic sinking last month."

"Besides the Belgium elections and the minimum wage law in Massachusetts? Nothing." Emily crunched the newspaper and tossed it in the air. She pulled out her wand and casted a spell that made the crumbled explode into fiery, paper dragonflies that flew around. "I don't want to go home, Penelope. Sure, they are classmates who stink and Mum will think that I went pagan, but I'm more comfortable at Hogwarts."

"I know." Penelope picked up a daisy and sadly watched it whither in her hands. "My twelfth birthday is coming up this week and my father's going to expect me to kill someone to create a Horcrux. I dread the idea of him appearing here and forcing me to murder a Muggle-born or a Muggle-hugger."

"Muggle-hugger? Oh, right. The non-Muggle-born wizards who support Muggle-borns." Emily grimaced. "You don't think he'd have you murder me, right?"

"I'd rather be eaten by Nagini than to follow his order!" Penelope bolted up. "You're my best friend! Well, you're the only friend I have that's neither dead nor some psychopathic fantastic beast!"

"What about Newt and Leta?"

"The friendship with them is secondary after you."

"Hagrid?"

"Somebody to talk to because there's no other half-breed here."

"And Dumbledore?"

"Mentor and surrogate parent that I wish would be my actual father."

"Mandire?"

Penelope frowned. "Why bring Mandire up?"

"He's the only boy of our age that isn't Newt and at the same time hasn't created a Slytherin anti-Penelope club."

"I don't even know why he sticks around. Besides, Newt has been pestering Mandire about feeding the off-grounds ghost with Egyptian beetles when he found out through a merchant that they're actually endangered." Penelope's eyes widened. "You don't suppose Amanda is actually the off-grounds ghost, do you?"

"Didn't Mandire say the ghost was a he?" The sun was starting to set. The girls figured that it was high time for them to get up and go back to school before it was too dark to find their way back. "I'm mean, even if Amanda could shapeshift into a male, I doubt she'd be bribed by Egyptian beetles."

"Even for the sake of proteins, I wouldn't eat them."

The girls turned to see that they were no longer alone on the grass patch. The female imp from the picture came out from her hiding spot behind the pine trees. It was amazing to see that after countless centuries, she had managed to keep up her physical appearance as a teenage, green-eyed brunette. She wore a saturated green and yellow attire that looked very much like the dresses, jackets, and fancy hats Penelope and Emily had seen in first-class fashion journals.

"Amanda Von Stiltskin, so nice to finally make your acquaintance." Amanda mocked them with a curtsey.

"Drop the act already." Emily pointed her wand at Amanda while placing herself in front of Penelope. "We know your tricks, imp. We knew you used your status as a Slytherin alumnus to attack Penelope."

"Attack her? No, I'd call it more as 'destabilizing a pit bull before bringing it to its rightful place'." Amanda smirked a toothy grin. "Dumbledore was the real criminal. Stopping me before I could properly save you, Penelope."

"Oh no. I know that language!" Penelope hissed and pulled out her wand as well. "I knew it from the start! Grindelwald's ideologies got the best of you! He sent you to take me to him!"

"Actually, I don't really do politics. Grindelwald had my refusal the first time he asked. His daughter though…" Amanda shuddered, not in the sense of terror, but in the sense of evident arousal. "She's _very_ convincing."

"Great. An imp and a slut." Emily rolled her eyes. "Where's a fanatic when you need one?"

"Oh, right. I forgot how murderous you Muggles were." Amanda raised her hand, and when Penelope recognized the intention with the imp's finger movements, she shoved Emily out of the way. All it did was trapping Penelope's arms and legs with Devil's Snare that emerged from the ground. Emily tried to use her wand to summon a solar spell, but Amanda had the Devil's Snare slap her away by ten feet.

" _Flosmixtio!_ " Penelope used the spell Aconite had taught her in the past to have the Devil's Snare merge with the grass under her feet. When her bonding softened, she kicked and punched it away. The child threw a blast of teal-colored magic at the imp, but Amanda merely dodged.

" _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " Emily used her wand to have a nearby rock thrown at Amanda's head, but the imp pulled out a spindle (you know, the thingy on a spinning wheel that pricked Sleeping Beauty) and swung it like a spinning top at the rock. It shattered into a thousand pebbles.

Amanda spun her spindle back, causing the string to shine a bit. "Nice, huh. It's my personal spindle. I use it to spin straw into gold."

"Clearly you never heard of paper cash," Emily rolled her eyes.

Amanda smirked and looked at Penelope. "Your Mudblood friend is unusually feisty."

"Don't call her that," Penelope hissed coldly.

"Aw, why not? I mean, it's not like you'll be friends for long." Amanda's statement made Penelope snarl. "What? You have to see it coming. With that hypocrite who sired you, there's no way he'll let you keep her around forever. You've been living such a blissful time away from him, you remember that the cold, harsh reality will eventually slap you once you get back on the Hogwarts Express?"

"Don't listen to her!" Emily shouted.

Penelope continued to give a bad expression to Amanda. The imp suddenly lost her creepy smiling and put away her spindle. "This is ridiculous…" She extended her gloved hand to Penelope. "Come with me. You'll be better off with Grindelwald than with that hellion who calls himself your father."

"Save it! Grindelwald already used that trick on me when I was ten and I punched him on the chest with a Cruciatus Curse!" Penelope spat while Emily gave her a surprised curse.

"And Grindelwald is still impressed that you did. Had it been your father, you'd be getting the beating of a lifetime," Amanda continued. "Grindelwald never lies, Penelope Svjetla Marvolo Riddle. You'd be better taken cared of with him anywhere else. Why, he'd even let you keep your Mudblood friend over here and you'd never have to worry about losing another friend. Isn't it better to be appreciated as you are than feared for being none other than a devil's child?"

"Dumbledore doesn't fear me."

Amanda scoffed. "That man will pamper any weak lamb he encounters ever since his failed, yet gorgeous days with Grindelwald."

This caused Penelope to narrow her eyes in realization. "It makes sense now."

Amanda and Emily were both confused. "Pardon?"

Penelope started laughing. It was the same kind of laughter she threw at Voldemort when she and Aconite had successfully tricked him; one of the rare times she actually laughed out of cruelty. "This was never about trying to recruit me or getting to the Dark Lord!" She kept laughing as she pointed at Amanda. "The two eye-colored FREAK knew that Dumbledore would sympathize with me the moment I put my foot in Hogwarts! Your whole attacking-me-with-insane-methods was to get me to believe that even a great wizard like me couldn't keep me safe from dark forces, so I'd be convinced to go with Grindelwald who'd then probably place the Imperius Curse on me to kill Dumbledore! Because the two eye-colored FREAK knows that Dumbledore won't face him directly after their past relationship!"

"I hope it isn't like the one between Amanda and Grindelwald's daughter," Emily grimaced.

"Oh, shut your Muggle prejudices up!" Amanda spat. The imp was too distracted calling out Emily, se only noticed at the last minute that Penelope had (surprisingly) summoned a Killing Curse at her. Amanda managed to dodge, but the Killing Curse still hit someone.

Amanda managed to run away, for Penelope was still shocked. Emily cautiously got close enough to see the passerby Penelope had accidentally killed.

"Holy cow!" Emily gasped. "It's one of the Hogsmeade villagers that delivers dairy to Hogwarts! Penelope, you just…" Emily stopped herself when she saw the dead man changing his appearance.

"Fuck…" Penelope ignored Emily's shocked expression due to Penelope using a pejorative word. The half-breed child was shocked to see the face of the wizard who had used Polyjuice potion to pass off as a villager. "He's one of the Death Eaters. Emily, I just killed one of my father's followers!"

"What is your father going to think? Worse, what is Dumbledore going to think?"

…

The girls just went on to leave the body in the woods and make a run for it. By the time the Aurors discovered the real villager was tied up in his basement and went on a search to find the Death Eater who had posed off as him, the corpse was already half eaten by local beasts. Still, the traces of a Killing Curse were still present.

The girls immediately informed Dumbledore at the office what had occurred. Penelope, in a mixture of frustration, horror, and dismay, understand why Dumbledore canceled their reservation at the Hogsmeade pub. He did cheer them up with a homemade dinner to make up for it. Eventually, he sent them back to their Slytherin room before the Aurors came to ask him about the Death Eater's corpse. Around the time Penelope and Emily were done packing for the Hogwarts Express, Dumbledore came to reassure them that the Aurors did not suspect Penelope: he claimed to them that he personally killed the Death Eater after realizing he had been conspiring with an imp to threaten Hogwarts security. Though the Aurors and some parents thanked Dumbledore for keeping the students safe, he received a yearlong ban of using any of the Unforgivable Curses.

The ride back to London was awfully quiet and dreadful for Penelope, for she couldn't help but fear the punishment that Voldemort would give her for killing one of his followers, even by accident. Emily tried to reassure Penelope that things would be alright, and if they didn't, she could always convince her parents to let Penelope stay with them for the summer in Ireland.

When they finally arrived at King's Cross Station, Penelope knew she had to wait until the rest of the passengers were gone for Bloodyle to come pick her up. The Rosefinks came to collect their daughter and they, particularly Mrs. Rosefinks, were relieved that their daughter still behaved the same way she did last summer. Mrs. Rosefinks did look at Penelope with concern when the dread the child felt made her skin look paler than usual and did agree with Emily that Penelope was always welcome to spend time with them during the summer if she didn't feel well.

It was probably around 11pm when Bloodyle finally brought Penelope to the Riddle Estate. The Dark Lord immediately asked to see Penelope in his office; Penelope immediately expected him to use the Cruciatus Curse on her or something, but instead, Voldemort started laughing.

" **You actually killed someone! Without me even forcing you to!** " He kept laughing.

"I was aiming at the imp!" Penelope protested. "I didn't mean to kill that Death Eater, which you probably sent to spy on me!"

" **And you still did!** " He kept laughing. " **For once your life, you actually killed someone with sheer will and hatred! Sure, it was one of my lesser and more useless Death Eaters, but you made me PROUD!** " He ruffled her hair. Penelope raised her eyes and gave him a frown. " **I'm still going to force a needle on your back** ," he replied flatly.

"No kidding."

" **I should be angry because despite your successful kill, you mostly did it out of loyalty to my… worst foe.** " Voldemort spat as he dreaded to speak out the name of the wizard he hated but knew his daughter was greatly attached to. He then clasped his hands. " **But, you killed on your own, you managed to resist Grindelwald again, and you really showed it to that brat of Rumplestiltskin. You deserve a reward that goes against my better judgment!** "

Against his better judgment? Penelope sincerely hoped that father-daughter bonding vacation trips weren't against his better judgment. If it were, she'd rather have mermaids drown her to the new home of the Titanic's remains.

" **You're going to spend your entire summer vacation with your friend Newt Scamander's family.** "

His declaration startled Penelope. "Are you serious?" She blinked.

" **Of course. Out of the little amount of friends you've made in your first-year, he's probably the only one whose oddball interests are actually interesting.** "

"Hey! At least he's interested in magical creatures that doesn't involve harpooning them! He's not an oddball, but ahead of his time!"

" **Don't push your luck.** " Voldemort flatly showed her the door. "Go pack your things for your trip. Bloodyle is escorting you to the Scamander household first thing tomorrow morning!"

Penelope nodded and made her way out.

" **Oh, and Penelope?** "

Penelope turned to look at her father straight in the eyes.

" **Don't expect me to do this again out of the non-existent love I have. You only get rewards like this when you do things I want you to do.** "


	9. The Second Year, Part 1

Chapter 9: The Second Year, Part 1

To say that Penelope's summer with the Scamander family was the best summer in her life would be as much of an understatement, like how on earth you could possibly claim that watching a phoenix reincarnate was an average sight. No, this was the _only_ decent summer Penelope experienced in her life.

As early before dawn, Penelope had taken a carriage ride and left the Riddle Estate. They eventually left behind the gloomy village of Little Hangleton and arrived a few days in the vast green and shining countryside of Dorset, in the far south of England. Mr. and Mrs. Scamander immediately welcomed Penelope the moment she put her foot at their farmhouse; though they were aware of the true nature of her family, they were decent enough to know that Penelope was still the decent girl she had been the last time they saw her at the Ministry of Magic. Newt surprised her the most by revealing that he imagined to invite Emily over; granted, Mrs. Rosefinks was alright with her daughter spending time with friends, but she had come over for the trip to ensure that her daughter wasn't getting any 'pagan ideas'.

Unsurprisingly, as June went on, Mrs. Rosefinks' opinions on wizardry relaxed. She spent a good portion of her time with Mrs. Scamander and the two did become fast friends as they talked marriages, children's antics, the progress of the Muggle women's suffrage, and careers. Mr. Scamander went to London very frequently for his work at the Ministry and so did Newt's older brother, Theseus, who had been performing numerous internships and entry-level jobs at the Ministry after his graduation from Hogwarts. Since the children couldn't use their magic outside of school, Penelope and her friends managed to find a numerous amount of activities to do. Newt introduced them to every single hippogriff his mother bred, and while Emily did manage to befriend at least one, it seemed like every single of those beasts liked Penelope. They'd let her approach them as long as she remained calm, they'd gently eat the meat she'd offer them, and frequently they let out noises of appreciation when she caressed their feathers. There was one point when one of them had Penelope ride on his back and fly her around; it took Mrs. Scamander nearly an hour to calm down a panicked Bloodyle.

Somewhere around the end of June and early July, rain poured on the countryside. To distract themselves, Emily and Penelope resorted to reading Muggle-written books on the sofa, Mrs. Scamander and Mrs. Rosefinks worked on some embroidery, and Newt finished some detailed sketches of the beasts he had managed to encounter during his holiday other than hippogriffs. Bloodyle tried to see if she could take a nap upstairs.

"These are some nice illustrations you have there, Newton," Mrs. Rosefinks complimented Newt as she noticed some of the sketches he had placed on the coffee table.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You really have a fondness for animals. Do you see yourself as a future fauna caretaker? Or maybe even a veterinarian?"

Penelope glanced over her copy of _Wuthering Heights_ and noticed that Emily was trying to bury a sour expression underneath the pages. Her best guess was that her Muggle-born friend wasn't used to seeing her mother speaking things other than criticism.

"I'd _really_ to do more than just caring for them. I'd want to travel the world to find more beasts, learn how they function, figure out how we could provide for them, and have them more accepted in the wizarding community," Newt spoke in a dreamy tone.

"Now Newt, we did say that a position at the Ministry is more logical than working with beasts," his mother said in a quiet, firm tone. It did surprise Penelope that Newt's mother, a hippogriff breeder, wasn't encouraging her son's dreams.

"Why? So I can stuff my nose on papers while witches and wizards continue to persecute, mistreat, and misunderstand those fantastic beasts? So they can continue to hang on some oaf's walls?" Newt protested.

The teenager was spared from a potential scolding when Emily let out a snicker. "Leta did say that your boggart was having to work at a desk."

"Oh shove it, will you?" Penelope told Emily. "At least Newt has dreams. I don't have that leisure."

Sometime around 3am on July 4th, Penelope woke everyone in the farmhouse when she found the mattress she was sleeping on drained in blood. Bloodyle had a panic attack, thinking that her foster sister had attained something. After convincing the men to go back to bed, Mrs. Scamander reassured Penelope that she was not injured but her menstruation had started. While she and Bloodyle went to clean the mattress and Emily went to get some rags, Mrs. Rosefinks had Penelope calm down with a cold bath.

"It happens to all of us ladies, child," she said as she placed a new nightgown for Penelope to wear. "It's a good thing, even! You are on the first steps to womanhood. You'll be able to bless any future husband with fancy children."

Penelope shuddered, not from the cold water. "I'd rather not think about it."

Mrs. Rosefinks gave her an understanding nod, but the reasons were different. The Muggle woman just thought that the twelve-year-old darling was disturbed by the idea of men chasing her for such matters; not to mention that due to her own experiences and that of other Muggle girls she knew, Penelope had her first period barely a month after her twelfth birthday. Penelope's reasons for shuddering were different from Emily's mother: she still remembered in distraught how her birth and that of her father's cost them both of their mother's lives. And while his birth was out of fake love, hers was out of a madman seeking power. Honestly, she could never imagine the Dark Lord allowing her to settle down unless grandchildren could be used to his advantage and give him a reason to dispose of Penelope.

Around the middle of the month, Mr. Scamander and his eldest son managed to earn a two-weeks-and-a-half holiday from the Ministry. The Scamander patriarch decided to treat his family and their guests to a trip to Bournemouth. A colleague of his was taking a work trip to Spain and gave Mr. Scamander permission to stay at the house for the trip. It was a good change for most of them. When they'd go to the coast, Newt would convince his father to rent a rowboat to see if they could spot some mermaids and at least one grindylow. Though they had some chance encounters and Newt was able to record them in his sketchbook, his father personally wished his youngest son would find other activities. Theseus and Mrs. Rosefinks would read, Emily and Mrs. Scamander would go on to collect seashells or clam shells, and Bloodyle… watched Penelope.

Bloodyle wasn't sure if this was a mere coincidence after the menstruation, but summer 1912 proved to be another growth spurt for Penelope. Areas were growing, her black hair and teal strikes were getting longer and changing in value (its colors didn't change, but they gave peculiar shining effects under the daytime and nighttime), her bluish eyes stood out, her fingers got thinner, and her facial details particularly outlined. In a matter of days, Penelope had lost most of her childhood cuteness and gained a level of beauty that even she couldn't define. The basilisk's confusion wasn't helped either when they'd go walking around Bournemouth as a group during those unusual sunny days. A grand majority of young boys out there, regardless if they were mere Muggles or from some local wizarding family, started coming to Penelope. They'd try to get her attention with flowers, poetry, or offers to give her free carriage rides. Mrs. Rosefinks found no difficulty in shooing away the delinquents with her umbrella. For Newt and Emily, it was very confusing: some of the boys who actually came to Penelope were students they had spotted at Hogwarts. How is it that boys who frequently joined in ostracizing her for being a devil's child were suddenly acting like lovesick peacocks when they saw her in her new angelic beauty? Their confusion was equaled by Penelope's. After all, she had the same lack of understanding in romantic love as her father given that their lives weren't created out of it. She merely ignored it and went along with her business, thinking they'd get over their pranking by the time school resumed.

"How can the child possibly be this oblivious?" Mrs. Rosefinks remarked while she and Mrs. Scamander were having tea out in the garden during the last few days of the trip at Bournemouth. Once again, some young boys had tried to pass by and get Penelope's attention, from some local pureblood son trying to show her a necklace he'd stolen from his own mother to a Muggle chimney sweep who handed her a pitiful flower. Somehow, Penelope couldn't see past the invisible glass wall around her and continued helping the Squib gardener by tending to the flowers.

"She is still twelve," Mrs. Scamander shrugged as she dropped a sugar cube in her tea.

"I know, but look at her." Mrs. Rosefinks continued. "True, her growth is a bit… unlike what I've seen in most girls, but most of the ones I encounter can at least notice when a lad is trying to court them. At least _I_ noticed it when I was being courted by the man I ended up marrying."

"Yes, they all have that charisma, but Penelope is different."

"Daughter of an evil wizard, I'm aware." Mrs. Rosefinks raised her hand. Still, she gave a pitiful look to the unaware girl. "Emily did bring up the problems at school. Don't take me wrong, but for a group of people with… talents higher than most mortals, you do have a few who treat your own like garbage." And keep in mind, this came from a Muggle woman who had been initially uncomfortable about sending her daughter to a 'school for pagans'.

Fortunately, Mrs. Scamander took it lightly. "I suppose that if I had to give you an image, Mrs. Rosefinks, where we had to imagine the Dark Lord as a vicious dragon who just had an egg hatched, would you approach the baby dragon, take the time to know it, raise it, and love it, or would you immediately grab a broom to smash it before it could burn your house?"

The Muggle put down her teacup. "Well, I never had that situation… But I suppose if I didn't…" She saw what Mrs. Scamander meant.

"Fear for the unknown will do these sorts of things as well to wizards as to Muggles. My family isn't afraid of Penelope because she was a scared toddler the first time we met her. Even years later, we still see that not an ounce of her corresponds to the cruelty of her father. Well, if she even has a pinch of cruelty. But other witches and wizards assume that if the Dark Lord created her, she's bound to be as bad as him. With the social rejection and domestic abuse she must be enduring, I'm not surprised that Penelope doesn't understand the concept of courtship."

"This is madness." Mrs. Rosefinks shook her head. "Why doesn't the school headmaster simply take her in? Emily wrote to me about the private lessons and the special connection he has with Penelope, and his second deems him of high positioning."

"As much of a great wizard Dumbledore is, strange things occur to those pupils we takes a shine on," Mrs. Scamander said quietly. "I very much think of my children's futures, but I still fail to see why out of the two sons I have, Dumbledore likes Newt the most."

…

Summer passed eventually to the point where Penelope and Emily were getting off the Hogwarts Express and heading to the castle's Main Hall. Frankly, considering what happened to them on their first day last year, the girls just hoped that they'd go back to their dorm after the Sorting Ceremony. Surprisingly, they found that Leta and Mandire had saved them some seats at the end of the table closest to where the ceremony was occurring.

"What on earth happened to you?" Leta almost lost her eyeballs as Penelope sat down next to her.

"An unusually relaxing summer." Penelope sighed.

"I think Lestrange meant your baby fat loss." Mandire's expression was more subtle but longer than the one Leta had. "You look like you came out of a clam or something."

Penelope did not understand at all what he meant, but merely shrugged.

"Smooth, Sullivan," Emily snarked.

Mandire rolled his eyes for the Mudblood's constant approach of misnaming his last name. Emily, for her part, couldn't help but be amused by the third-year's complete lack of poetic beauty. It took her less than a second for her to understand that Mandire was trying to compare Penelope to Venus rising from a clam on the ocean waves like in most Renaissance paintings… and it took him less than that to understand that he acted like a big buffoon.

"Sternia Snape."

Penelope raised her head up in surprise when Professor McGonagall called up a name that was so ever familiar. A first-year girl got up on the stool and waited for the professor to place the Sorting Hat on her shoulder-length curly hair bearing a single golden dyed patch. When the hat announced her placement in Slytherin, she straightened her green glasses and her gothic jewelry shone under the candles' lights as McGonagall gave her the Slytherin ties.

"Did you know?" Emily asked Penelope as she cautiously had the group notice Sternia and Severus exchanging nods.

"Hardly." Penelope shook her head. "The Death Eaters just now that he had a bastard from a fling. Snape took her in when the whore… went nuts on opium." Leta, Mandire, and Emily shuddered at the concept. "I've seen Snape at the Riddle Estate, but he never brings her along."

"Probably to keep her safe from the Death Eaters?" Leta suggested.

"Leta, I'm the Dark Lord's daughter and I can't even stand the presence of Brittany Crouch and Roedor Pettigrew! As for your cousin Bayen, I'd personally wish that the basilisks would eat him already."

"Cyrielle Black!"

This caused everyone in the room to go far more silent than death, even Sternia Snape stopped in her tracks to the Slytherin table. Another first-year girl headed to the stool and waited for the hat to sort her. Her dark hair was far longer than Penelope's and was decorated with magenta dyes and bangs. Her school robes had painted teal and purple patterns on them, suggesting the girl was not so subservient. Her facial features were the strangest: with the blue makeup she had, the canine-irises in her brown eyes really stood out, her magenta lips smiled, revealing some pointy teeth, and black dog ears with earrings stood out.

"Wow. Is that a werewolf?"

"No, it ain't the full moon tonight. That's a semi-Animagus." Leta shook her head.

"I thought wizards needed a permit to be an Animagus once they were of age," Mandire frowned.

"It occasionally happens when the children of Animagus inherit their parents' animal transfiguration capacities. The catch is that when they revert back to their human appearance, they keep some of their animalistic traits," Penelope explained.

"And you know this how?"

"Roedor Pettigrew got his capacities to change into a rat from Peter Pettigrew. He still has the traits of a rat." Penelope glanced at Cyrielle Black as the Sorting Hat placed her in Gryffindor and the so-called 'lion hearts' welcomed her with open arms. "And judging by the last name, I already know I'm going to have problems with her."

…

September passed by in an unusual quiet manner. The classes were getting intense, but nothing that Penelope couldn't handle. Per usual, her Herbology and Transfiguration classes were her favorites and her private lessons with Dumbledore were her solace. The other students were a mixture: either they did their best to stay away from her or they gave her some 'glances'. Obviously, the effects of her growth spurt haven't totally worn off.

Frankly, Penelope was relieved that the other students were less concerned about her and mostly talking about Sternia Snape or Cyrielle Black. Some Slytherin students have given a shot or two to interact with Sternia in the hopes of getting on her father's good side. Sternia kept shoving them off, which did cause Penelope to laugh a bit. Did Snape even have a good side? As for Cyrielle Black, she seemed to have become quite a popular Gryffindor. Her semi-Animagus status made her rather athletic to the point where the Gryffindor Quidditch captain had her tryout for the position of Keeper. Most of Slytherin disliked her, especially Emily.

"You can't be serious!" Penelope told Emily in disbelief when they were heading out to study hall. Emily had told her that she was seriously considering trying out as Beater for the Slytherin team now that Mandire was the only Beater left on the team after the other Beater graduated in June.

"No, I am!" Emily insisted. "This is definitely an extracurricular activity that I plan on trying out for the sake of progressive experience; not because I want to shove a bloody Bludger on Dog Face's annoying cheeks."

"Progressive experience? Witches have played Quidditch centuries faster than it took New Zealand to be the first country to allow women to vote!"

"OK, at least come to the tryouts. To see me do justice."

"Your lack of consciousness doesn't entertain me, Emily. The day a team full of egoistical purebloods allows a Mudblood among them will be the day I actually agree to go out with a boy. NEVER."

Then of course, Penelope still came to witness the tryouts in early October. Just in case Emily got her bones broken and she'd need to be escorted to the infirmary. To Penelope's surprise, however, Emily was being serious about being a Beater, especially since Emily Rosefinks had some childhood experiences discreetly learning baseball from some local boys in Ireland behind her parents' back. Even more surprising was when the entirety of the Slytherin team agreed to have Emily be a Beater with Mandire.

"I guess Slytherin _can_ be progressive," Penelope muttered to herself out loud as she stood on the bleachers and watched Emily and Mandire sharing a strong handshake.

"Don't get your hopes up. Mandire obviously played easy with her."

Penelope groaned. To think that she hadn't even bothered to wonder when Cyrielle Black would eventually come to annoy her. She turned and saw Cyrielle standing a few feet away from her. Contrary to most of the Gryffindor bullies Penelope had seen moving in groups last year, the semi-Animagus clearly kept up with the expression 'lone wolf'.

"Same with yours." Penelope shrugged indifferently. "Emily's only interested in shoving a Bludger on your face. I personally wouldn't mind if she knocked out one of your fangs. Filch would have to send you to a nearby pound to keep Mrs. Norris protected." Penelope didn't bother excusing herself and proceeded to walk away.

"It's a miracle the Dark Lord didn't just place you in some orphanage. Most Muggles do that with bastards they bred with whores. Then again, Voldemort must have scared the shit out of one to bring you in this world!"

This stopped Penelope in her tracks.

Threatening Aconite's life years ago? She laughed to the point of torture when Voldemort failed to kill the house-elf. Grindelwald seeking to use her against Dumbledore? Penelope accidentally killed a Death Eater. Random things to get her angry, really.

But still, none of these compared to the dark, brewing anger in her stomach when Cyrielle had the audacity to insult Penelope's mother. The same nature demon who died upon giving birth, courtesy of Voldemort's poison. Svjetla, the first being that poured all her love to Penelope as an infant and the infant grew up never knowing her own mother.

To say the least, the insult to Penelope's late mother's memory was enough to earn Cyrielle a punch on the face and send the semi-Animagus flying across the Quidditch field. Soon enough, the Slytherin team and nearby students were made aware of a brawn occurring between Riddle and Black. The girls were punching, kicking, and clawing each other to the point of destroying the entirety of the Quidditch field. For most of the students, it was a horrifying site, but the Slytherin reacted as if the girls' fight was better than the World Cup itself.

"Go on, Riddle! Give that dog what she deserves!"

"The hair! Pull the hair!"

"No, knock out her teeth!"

"Penelope! Use this!" The Slytherin effect had its toll on Emily, who of all people gave her bat to Penelope. And to think that of all the people in her existence, Penelope was the one gladly grabbing the bat and beating Cyrielle with it. Penelope didn't even stop to listen to the little voice in her head that told her to stop. All she could think about was beating that dog for her offense, or at least until she could hear the bones crack.

Eventually, McGonagall and Snape ran into the scene just in time to pull them apart. Once the girls had been tended to at the infirmary (Penelope with bandages and Cyrielle with broken ribs), the Heads of their Houses immediately dragged them to Dumbledore's office.

"A shame! To BOTH of you!" McGonagall was the most angry of the three, especially when Sternia Snape had come in as a witness and confirmed what she had heard what led to the destruction of the Hogwarts Quidditch field. "50 points taken from each of your houses!"

"Expulsion would be too easy of a punishment." Snape shrugged. "Then again, if we were to give them detention…"

"I did nothing!" Cyrielle protested. " _She's_ the one who ought to be expelled! I don't even know why you keep her here!"

Penelope bit her lip. She had to hold the frustration in.

"Oh, yes. Because insulting one's deceased parent was worth it! Consider yourself lucky that Riddle and her father share no sense of affection!" Snape snapped. "The Dark Lord would probably hunt you down and rip you to shreds!"

"Severus, that's enough." Dumbledore's calm demeanor had an obvious tone of disappointment. "Cyrielle should know better than to judge others based on public opinion." He gave Cyrielle a cross look. "I would have thought that your father's lessons would have reached your ears."

Her ears lowered in embarrassment. "Yes, Professor."

"See to it that you remember it while Snape supervises your repairs of the Quidditch field."

Snape wasted no second and pulled Cyrielle out of the office by pulling her ear. She still took the time to shoot a venomous glare at Penelope. Now left alone in the office with Dumbledore and McGonagall, Penelope stiffened in her seat.

"Do you understand _why_ I'm disappointed with you right now?" Dumbledore bent down on one knee so that he could have his eyes be on the same level as Penelope's.

Penelope gave a small nod.

"And you understand that _I_ know exactly how you felt for doing so?"

She nodded, only this time tears were showing on her eyes.

"Come now."

And McGonagall was perhaps the only professor besides the headmaster himself at Hogwarts who ever got to see Voldemort's daughter sobbing her heart out in Dumbledore's embrace.

…

McGonagall had Penelope aid Filch in catching all the bugs in Hogwarts as her detention without the use of magic. And Dumbledore's part in the detention? He put a temporary ban on Penelope's free time outside of classes. The time she would have spent in study hall, the library, spending time with her limited amount of friends, or trying to sneak to see Bloodyle, she would spend it with him, regardless of where he went.

The punishment was supposed to last until the first game after the repairs of the Quidditch field were done, and despite her bruised areas, Cyrielle was a fast worker.

Despite the loss of 50 points, the Slytherin students started treating Penelope less as a plague and more as inspiration. They'd applaud her for how she injured Cyrielle and some of the six-years tried to give her tips on how to further injure Gryffindor. Penelope wanted none of it. She disliked Cyrielle, but she despised how she had behaved to make Dumbledore disappointed. Emily tried in vain to cheer her up. Leta was making scarce appearances, not because of what Penelope had caused, but because she was having her own problems: while Penelope was earning some sort of twisted popularity, Leta was getting chased around with mock. Why? Leta would never say. As for Newt, his growing obsessions were making him unseen outside of classes as much as Penelope's punishments. Still, he'd pass by at night and have Emily bring in a basket of treats for Penelope: snacks and butterbeer he got from Hogsmeade, homemade meat pies with the recipe his mother had given him, and more stories about beasts.

The punishment of catching all the castle bugs wasn't that much of a problem for Penelope. It wasn't any different from when the basilisks had shown her how to catch small animals to eat when she was younger. Even Filch commented that she caught bugs with her bare hands faster than Mrs. Norris could catch a mouse. The only problem, however, was that the bugs were disappearing. Everytime Penelope caught bugs, she killed them and placed them in glass jars the size of her own stomach. She normally managed to fill up five jars, pleasing Filch, who'd then bring them to the reserve where they kept the food for the Owlery. Then, as it was unexpected, it occurred on numerous October mornings where Filch and Hagrid went to get the bugs to feed the owls and jars would go missing.

"Each morning, it's the same thing!" Filch complained to Dumbledore. "I bring the five jars that Riddle girl has filled, and at least three are gone in the morning!"

"Well at least we can guarantee that dead bugs won't swarm the castle."

And Penelope happened to have caught a loose beetle when she overheard Filch and Dumbledore talking. After Filch had left the Owlery and while the students were busy with the Halloween feasts, Penelope snuck out of the castle to check out the bug jars. As she walked up the hills to reach the bottom of the one bearing the Owlery, she looked once again at a letter she had received a few weeks earlier. The letter held notes from both Voldemort and Bellatrix, who were both so ecstatic beyond comparison when word reached their ears that Penelope purposely injured Cyrielle Black and got the Quidditch field destroyed. While Voldemort praised his daughter's 'improved initiative' in only one paragraph, the majority of the letter was Bellatrix praising Penelope for giving Bellatrix's 'filthy cousins' the punishment they deserved, something that not even Bayen could accomplish.

Penelope groaned in frustration and shoved the letter in her pocket. There was no praise from them that couldn't revolt her. She stopped in her tracks when she reached the food safe just in time to see someone casting a shrinking spell on her bug jars, shoving them in his pockets, and closing the safe's doors behind him.

"Mandire?"

Mandire jumped in fright, dreading that Filch caught him, but sighed in relief. "Oh, it's just you."

"Yeah, and just me is wondering what you're doing." Penelope pointed at the pocket where he shoved the shrunken bug jars. "The jars that I spent my detention filling?"

"I needed them for the off-limits ghost."

Penelope was rather surprised by Mandire's honest response. She recalled how he and Newt had an argument about Mandire not warning the school faculty that he had encountered a ghost that didn't belong at Hogwarts. She gave him a mere nod. Mandire looked relieved and invited her to walk with him back down the hills until they reached Hagrid's hut. Once there, they'd split so he could meet up with the ghost.

"How long have you known the ghost now?" Penelope asked as they walked through the dark grass. The moon shone beautifully over the Black Lake.

"Last year? He was casting numerous pranks on my Quidditch team. He wasn't easy to approach, but you know what happened with the Egyptian beetles…"

"Oh, right! You said that he ate bugs, especially beetles."

"Yes. So you know, I've been feeding him Egyptian beetles all year long, but when school started again, Sprout had gotten rid of her beetles. I didn't know where else to get bugs so…"

"So the thefts."

"He said you were a good bug poacher." Mandire chuckled. " 'Tell the lass that I don't know anyone who kills whole ant colonies better than her.'"

Penelope giggled a bit. To think she had managed to kill almost every single anthill that threatened the gardens and kitchens, she had unintentionally become a ghost's favorite chef. At least somebody else liked her extermination skills.

"Why don't you just explain about it to Dumbledore? I bet he could find a safe spot him here at Hogwarts…"

"I'm not worried about the ghost being safe." Mandire shook his head. "God, if people actually knew what he was capable of… No, it's better if Dumbledore and the others don't know. He's fun, but he's sneaky. If I didn't take such precautions, I can't imagine the chaos he'd cause if people knew how to summon him. Even I don't dare pronounce his name."

"Is he that powerful?" Penelope's eyes beamed with curiosity. They had reached Hagrid's hut, which meant she wouldn't get her answer. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks, Penelope." Mandire paused before he made his way to the Forbidden Forest. "You know, you should definetly come to the Slytherin vs Gryffindor game. On the new field."

Penelope hesitated. She definitely wanted to support her friends as they played, but she didn't want to provoke another catastrophe like last time.

"I'll think about it." She shrugged.

Mandire smiled and gave her a kick kiss on the cheek. Penelope barely reacted. She didn't know how to feel of her friend's gesture, especially when she saw his failed effort to hide his blush as he made his way to the forest.

…

Penelope managed to attend the game without causing troubles. Though it pained her to admit it, Cyrielle Black had done an impressive job. The new Quidditch field was shining under the sunlight, courtesy of the new wood she had used.

Penelope kept cheering for Emily and Mandire solely as they hit a Bludger or two around. It was annoying how viciously good Cyrielle was as a Keeper and kept Slytherin from scoring. Fortunately, the Slytherin Seeker was faster, and Penelope almost laughed when Emily nearly sent a Bludger flying at the tip of Cyrielle's head. If only Cyrielle hadn't avoided it.

McGonagall had already put an end to her part in Penelope's detention, but for some reason, Dumbledore had only cut his in half. Then again, Penelope didn't really mind it. Half of her weeks, generally days off and the weekends, meant her spending more time with Dumbledore. Along with giving her extra tutoring outside their Defense Against The Dark Arts lessons by practicing spells outside in the valleys, he kept an eye on her as she worked on homework and studied for quizzes in his office, practice using his Pensieve, or just reading. He allowed her to read the books in his office as long as it was in his presence. Occasionally it happened when he'd have her stay to eat meals with him, primarily as suppertime. Again, it didn't bother Penelope. If it had been Voldemort, she'd prefer murdering herself, and Dumbledore was spoiling her with his supreme cooking.

The end of the semester was coming close to an end and Dumbledore had summoned Penelope to his office.

"Am I in trouble?" That was the first thing she asked the moment Dumbledore had her sit on the armchair closest to his desk.

"You always think you're in trouble everytime I call you to my office." He shook his head in amusement before eventually pulling a serious expression as he pulled out a black envelope that had been ripped open. Penelope stiffened when she recognized the green-colored personalized stamp on the envelope's back.

"Why did my father send you a letter?"

"Do you want to read the letter yourself?"

"No. I'd prefer that you tell me yourself."

"Very well." He stood close to his desk. "You agree that the Dark Lord and I aren't on good terms and that we'd have no reason whatsoever on exchanging letters, right?"

"He'd have to be embarrassed beyond comparison."

"Still, he and I have a shared agreement. We both have problems with Grindelwald. I suppose you've heard the statements that sightings of his attacks and rising supporters have increased. Not to mention that tensions are rising in European Muggle societies."

Penelope nodded. "The Mudbloods dread a potential war."

"Indeed. And in his letter, Tom gave evidence of his Death Eaters suffering assaults from Grindelwald's supporters around the country. You know the disappeared butcher at Hogsmeade?"

"A supporter of Grindelwald."

"Crouch killed him. To sum things up, your father dreads that Grindelwald is trying yet again to capture you. And because of what happened last year with Amanda and this semester with Cyrielle, he insists that I take you with me for the Christmas break."

Penelope's eyes widened with surprise. "What?"

Dumbledore nodded. "It pains him to admit it, but he wants you out of England for the holiday. He worries that Grindelwald will seek an other attempt on you."

"But my father, the Dark Lord, trusts you into keeping me safe?"

"He knows Grindelwald won't go near me."

"Where would you take me?"

"Voldemort doesn't know, but I plan on taking you with me to New Orleans. It takes Muggles a week to get there by boat, but you and I will take a Portkey tomorrow morning and arrive at one of my American friends' house just in time for tea."

Penelope felt so many emotions inside her. One was of skepticism and the other was of enthusiasm. One was suspicious of Voldemort's letter, the other was excited about the idea of spending her Christmas holiday with Dumbledore! And her first time in America, to boot!

"Should I go pack?" Penelope asked.

"I took care of it. Just make sure to bring your wand and a smile. After all, it's New Orleans we're going to."

Penelope giggled at his joke.

"Get some sleep. We're leaving the castle at 8am tomorrow."

She nodded and rushed out of his office. Dumbledore continued to smile at her enthusiasm, something that he eventually lost when he re-read the P.S that came in the letter.

 _P.S: Ensure that Penelope spends less time with that Mandire Sullivan. I don't trust him!_

"Believe me, Tom, you're not the only one." Dumbledore grumbled through his teeth as he conjured a spell to burn the letter and envelope into cinders that he added to Fawke's litter.


End file.
